The First Step is Fatal
by Qilin
Summary: Harry enters Hogwarts under strange circumstances where he is sorted into Slytherin. Not what he expected when he fell down the stairs and died at home on Dudley's eleventh birthday. Possession would have been Harry's last guess at a second chance.AU1styr
1. Demise

**Disclaimer**: _I'm just playing with someone else's toys; JK Rowling owns them!_

**A/N** – _So Harry finds out he's dead in this chapter; no surprise there. **If that idea upsets you, skip to the next chapter.** But really, this isn't too graphic. I apologize now for my horrid summary, chances are I have not found one that I like yet. It will probably change often._

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**The First Step is Fatal**

Chapter 1: _Demise_

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Harry Potter was having one of the strangest days ever he'd ever experienced in his young life. And between accidentally jumping onto the roof of his school and having Dudley's brown puffball sweater from Aunt Marge shrink on himself; he'd certainly had some weird ones.

This one took the cake though.

_'Short life?'_ Harry pondered from the top of the stairs as the paramedics burst through the front door, and rushed over to his hyperventilating Aunt who was hovering over the body that lay at the foot of the stairs. She was alternating between wringing her hands and looking over her shoulder, as though she half expected someone to chastise her for something she wasn't supposed to be doing. Shards of glass that had once been the front of Dudley's new top-of-the-line plasma television set littered the carpeted floor above a steadily growing pool of blood. In a feat of uncharacteristic strength made by his Aunt, the shattered TV was set off to the side, where the gaping maw of the front hung open with shard like teeth around where the now obviously deceased boy's head had gone through it. The sight of the growing pool of blood sinking into the pristine white carpet chilled Harry to the core as he wrapped his arms around himself.

Uncle Vernon placed the phone on the table outside the master bedroom and watched the proceedings the the second story with a calm demeanor and a paleness in his cheeks Harry had only seen once; when it was directed at a bawling, injured Dudley. It was so unlike his usual method of bellowing at whatever set him off with his usual ruddy complexion.

"You better not have done this on purpose boy, ruining Dudley's special day like this."

Harry's face quickly morphed from bland and apathetic to an irritated scowl.

"Aunt Petunia's gonna make me clean the carpet as soon as they leave! It's hard to get blood out of anything!" He snarled in a furious whisper as he watched the paramedics flit around the body; gloved hands pawed at the thin dead boy.

Vernon Dursley clutched the rail at the top of the stairs and growled.

Harry flinched back from his uncle. He quickly recognized the danger signs, and ducked out of his uncle's line of view. Once out of sight, he sighed and made his way to the upstairs bathroom a door past Dudley's main bedroom. The new television was to have been a _surprise_, even though his large cousin had already known he was getting one. He always got something expensive. _Always_. A temper tantrum of epic proportions occurred if he was not given an increasing number of gifts; in the last few years inexpensive gifts were setting him off as well. No one could scent a 'Dudley Tantrum' like Aunt Petunia, though Harry must have been a close second. Only Harry wasn't exactly concerned with preventing them. He preferred to be out of the room as soon as possible. Dudley's room was filled with a bunch of beautifully wrapped and unopened presents; many in Dudley's favorite colors. The presents would have been brought down when Dudley had arrived back from the zoo with Piers and a few of his other brutish friends. They now lay forlornly on the floor; Harry imagined dust accumulating on some of the brighter boxes. He wondered if his aunt would still make him clean Dudley's room even though the boy was dead.

As Harry meandered slowly into the sparkling bathroom that he had cleaned earlier that morning, he turned to the cabinets where the towels were kept and proceeded to drag one flowered monstrosity out and shake it. He swallowed a sigh.

Harry himself had almost been allowed to go to the zoo, and he thought he'd had the outing in the bag until Dudley caught wind of his plan and raised a big stink about it. Dudley's seventh birthday was the first one he was not locked in his cupboard for. A classmate's father had found Harry in his cupboard when the man attempted to store some discarded trainers there to keep the hallway clear. Aunt Petunia had hastily assured the parent that Harry must have been playing hide and seek, and accidently locked himself in. From then on, he was placed with Ms. Figg the street over on Wisteria Walk. This year she was sick.

Petunia was very upset about this.

She called Ms. Figg a number of times after she had bailed out of babysitting him. If Harry was close enough when his Aunt was on the phone in the kitchen, he could sometimes hear the person on the other side of the conversation. Sometimes he used these conversations as entertainment while cleaning; he would fantasize about other children like himself secretly communicating through their relatives. It was safer than imaging how his parents would come rescue him and they would live happily ever after. It had not happened to him yet after all, so why make himself more depressed? Many of the books in the school library ended that way. It was nice.

But it was not reality.

When the phone rang earlier that day, Harry was wiping the morning dishes. He finished as quickly as possible and moved on to cleaning the counters with speed he rarely demonstrated. He was able to get close enough to his Aunt and the phone to catch Ms. Figg saying that "…she had to go to St. Mango because she had caught the draggin' pox". Sounded nasty. And grossly wet. Harry's aunt looked pasty as she hung up the phone. Harry was pretty sure that his aunt believed Ms. Figg to be a nutter, but everyone on the street had some sort of weird quirk; the Dursley's pursuit of extreme normalcy was one.

The fact that there were no other babysitters available seemed to be another. Aunt Petunia was quite upset indeed.

And so, Harry had been relegated to "party preparation duty", while Mr. and Mrs. Polkiss escorted his rotund cousin and entourage to a fun day at the zoo.

_'Wait.'_

The cabinet wasn't opening. Harry stared at it. Perplexed, he decided to ignore the fact that he could not feel the handle against his fingers.

"Somebody locked it!" Harry accused in a shout towards the open door.

No one had ever locked him out of the cabinet before; he didn't even know it could be locked. The Dursleys locked him out of the pantry and out of Dudley's sweets cupboard, they would not lock him out of the cleaning supplies. Harry's forehead scrunched up as he started to gnaw on the back of a knuckle nervously. He looked towards the open door then back to the cabinet with increasing unease. Something wasn't right.

His mind flew back to the macerated creature lying like a broken rag doll at the foot of the stairs.

"No. No, it couldn't have been. I would know! _That_ was Dudley!" He said in a mumble that quickly rose in volume.

He suddenly needed to see; he needed to know that it was his cousin lying shattered at the bottom of the stairs. His cousin that caused his aunt to shake like a leaf. His cousin that had a face and neck so covered in slick, dark weeping blood that – that it resembled nothing other than uncooked ground hamburger.

An urge to run overcame him as he quickly shot up straight; eyes down and focusing anywhere, _anywhere!_ but the mirror above the sink and cabinets. He dashed into the hallway; passed both of Dudley's rooms and made it to the stairs. Uncle Vernon was still there. Harry heard him mutter about "_trouble with those dress wearing freaks_".

"What are you talking about?"

Uncle Vernon did not answer.

He edged around Uncle Vernon who shivered, almost visible air rolled out of his nostrils like smoke. Harry hesitatingly made his way down the stairs. A lump formed in his throat as he stopped every few steps. He was drawn to the scene. Pain welled up in his chest and he rolled a hand in the thin old shirt he had on.

He took a deep breath, and scrambled down the last few stairs.

The paramedics were still there. The body was covered up by a blue plastic body bag, the end zipped up before he could get a better look at the form inside. The sound of sirens got louder. The front door was wide open. He wanted to ask one of them to close the front door. His brow scrunched in confusion when he attempted it himself.

Harry's hand went through the door handle. He gasped and jerked away, something was wrong here; he just was not sure what it was. It niggled in his mind, the thought that – no that was impossible.

Harry turned back to the scene behind him and clutched his hands together in front of himself.

Aunt Petunia eyed the open door way as she nervously answered the paramedic's questions.

Yes – It was an accident. Yes – she would arrange for the body. No – she did not want to ride with the body. No – she did not want any condolences – Please take him away now before my – Harry tuned out his aunt and stared at the body bag. It was smaller than he expected his cousin to fit in.

The body was no longer splayed out. Placed in the bag it took up less space. As no one had berated him yet for being so close, he moved closer to his aunt. She might like her son better than him, Harry knew this, but she was the only person he knew in the room. Aunt Petunia looked at him wide-eyed, shivered and stumbled through the paramedic's last few questions.

"Wow! This is the best-est! Party ever! A surprise murder mystery game with real ambulances!"

And Dudley, alive and well, floundered excitedly though the open doorway. He ran to straight to his mother and stood in the exact spot that Harry himself occupied.


	2. Disassociation

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Rowling's!

The First step is Fatal

Chapter 2 : Disassociation

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Cleaning 4 Privet Drive had become so much more taxing for Petunia now that her nephew was pronounced _dead_ due to an unfortunate accident. The Saturday and Sunday afterward dragged on.

It was now Monday and her back felt like rubber bands wrapped around steel tent poles. Catching flickers of movement in the corners of her eyes; she stubbornly ignored the unnatural, Petunia was a normal person.

She cleaned, and he stared at her, possibly attracted to the "_swish swish_" various cleaning supplies made as they scrubbed the surfaces of the house. In the morning she now had to wake up extra early; preparing breakfast for Didums and Vernon took an extra hour each morning.

She had to get back in the habit of these things.

She sighed.

_It had been nice sleeping in an extra hour._ The monotony of cooking would not clear her nervousness, with HIM standing there. Always standing now, always watching. The day after Dudley's birthday passed fast with Dudley and Vernon around the house; but then the weekdays started and Dudley was out during the day. Vernon went to work.

And Petunia, well she was left alone in the almost empty house with…it.

She vacuumed the carpet in the living room. He sat on the couch and stared.

Petunia polished the wooden side table. Harry stood next to the wall.

_Just ignore it. Just ignore it. Just ign-_AAH!

Petunia shrieked as she pulled open the living room curtains intent on airing them out. The opaque ghostly boy form of her nephew was floating on the other side. At least he was dressed in his night close from that morning; with no spots of blood.

Petunia was sure she would have popped a vessel, had he looked as he had when the body was carted away.

_Or naked. I would have been so much more freaked out if he had been naked_.

As it was Petunia drew in a large breath and–

"GET AWAY FROM THERE, SOMEONE MIGHT SEE YOU! I WON'T HAVE THEM BELIEVING THAT I CATER TO FREAKS!"

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Harry had had an epiphany:

being a ghost was much better than being alive in the Dursley home.

It was very nice not having to clean.

It was also extremely fun watching someone else do it.

The first day after his death by television set and stairs had him pretty shaken up. When Dudley had run through the open door the day before, all of the memories of the event had resurfaced in his mind.

He remembered the heavy weight of the large television, the creaking of the stairs. He remembered slipping, and _falling _backward; and then the second's worth of weightlessness before being sandwiched between the tv and the stairs while still tumbling down. He remembered _pain, pain, pain, PAIN_. He felt wetness and the tangible coolness of slickening darkness.

Then a rip, _TUG!_

And he was standing at the foot of the stairs watching his body go through its last death throes, pumping arterial blood onto the carpet from his slashed up neck; his Aunt screaming for Vernon as she tried to hold the lacerated pieces of skin together.

Harry remembered hearing his body's last gurgle.

_Wow –death is really depressing to think about._

And so here he was, a few days later. Watching his Aunt attempt to, and failing, to ignore him while cleaning the house.

Harry's ghostly eyebrow twitched. He found the avoidance by his Aunt to be much more annoying than it was when he was alive. He could tell she could see him; the way her eyes would slide to him whenever he came in the room. This morning he had decided that he would follow his Aunt around the house today. There wasn't much to do, as a ghost anyway; so following about the only living person that could consciously sense him seemed like a good idea.

He didn't realize earlier that it would rather fun as well.

When he saw her heading for the curtains he knew just how to make her acknowledge his presence. Moving as fast as he could, he slipped between the curtains and the window. As skinny as he was only a small part of his body was sticking out. Harry was quite sure she was too busy avoiding him – ironically, to notice him.

Petunia Dursley screaming – Priceless.

_"GET AWAY FROM THERE, SOMEONE MIGHT SEE YOU! I WON'T HAVE THEM BELIEVING THAT I CATER TO FREAKS!"_

Harry, emboldened by his Aunt's inability to punish him, smirked. "I guess they will all soon find out that horribly freakish people live here then. You better watch out Aunt Petunia, I think I see the Mattsons across the way watching! Whatever will _they_ think?"

Petunia fruitlessly tried to grasp Harry's arm and turned a nasty shade of maroon when she failed.

"Get away from there!"

"Will you talk to me then?"

"NO. I just want you to go away." Petunia snarled above the ten year old form of one Harry Potter.

"I thought you didn't want the neighbors to see me, bu–" He started to state when she interrupted in panic.

"NO! I want you to go where ever dead freaks go! Ghosts aren't real! You're only here because_ you're a freak_! Dead means _dead_! You do _NOT EXIST ANYMORE_! YOUR KIND NEVER PLAYS BY THE _NORMAL_ RULES! It's your kind's fault that you are even here _to begin with_!" Petunia squawked in the loudest voice Harry had ever heard.

He watched Petunia taking in deep breaths of air. Her eyes were unfocused and her shoulders were shaking.

It made her look like an over-run under-fed race horse.

"It's all _your_ kind's fault; we should have _murdered the lot of you_ hundreds of years ago. You bring trouble where ever you go. _Your_ _parents_ got my parents killed; _your kind_ took away my normal little sister. She became a _freak_, married a _freak_, birthed a _freak_, and killed by a _FREAK_. I don't want you here. I want you to go. _Now_."

Harry knew his Aunt and Uncle disliked him, but the vehemence in his Aunt's voice as she spoke barely above a whisper promptly trampled that idea in mud. She hated him. Truly hated him. Suddenly, Harry didn't want to be there either.

"I don't know how to go." He stated absently while purposely not looking at her. He wanted to cry but his ghostly form did not seem equipped with the ability.

"When Vernon comes home I going to ask him to consider moving. If you can't leave you must be stuck here in some way. I do not want to see you every day for the rest of my life; and I certainly don't want you to mess around with Dudley's. He can't see you now, but apparently I caught something from your mother, and I don't want you to infect him."

Momentarily confused by the mention of being unable to leave the house, when he didn't feel stuck there at all –he was about to correct his Aunt on this – and then thought better of it. After hearing the hate in her speech his world had shifted. They didn't like him, downright hated him in fact, and he didn't feel like he owed them anything. He was on his own now, he would take care of himself; he desired a happy ending, and even if he was dead, he figured he could still be happy.

Never seeing the Dursley family again would make him very happy at this moment.

"That seems extreme, but moving would certainly be more normal than hiring someone to get rid of me."

Harry wasn't sure if a priest or something would be able to kill him the rest of the way.

"Please. You probably orchestrated this somehow. Those other freaks will show up and blame us for your inabilities." Petunia Dursley stated while narrowing here eyes.

"Anyway, we should have turned you out when I first found you on our doorstep."

Harry's face firmed up at these words as he turned around to face her.

"It might have made everyone happier if you did. Why did you keep me if you didn't want me here?"

Those FREAKS _forced_ us to! I don't want to explain anymore! When Vernon comes home I will tell him that I can't live here any longer. First things first, though, it's time to remove the rubbish!"

Harry watched as his Aunt promptly released the drapes, and moved to the kitchen. She dug around under the sink and came back up with a trash bag. Airing it open she headed to the cupboard underneath the stairs that had been Harry's lodging for the last nine years. Opening the door she promptly dumped all of his meager belongings into the bag.

"I suppose the nice thing about you being dead is that I don't have to dye some of Dudley's old clothes for St. Brutus'. That's rather nice; I was told the grey dye has a very particular odor. Now we don't have to deal with that, goodness! The neighbors would have been able to smell it!"

Harry watched his aunt calmly continue cleaning the cupboard out; there was nothing he could do to stop it and there was also little he wanted.

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When Vernon arrived home with Dudley in tow at 6:53 pm he was greeted to the sight of luggage packed tight sitting in the entrance way.

A brief conversation later, and the Dursleys were on their way to London; leaving behind what they believed to be a haunting specter in a home they were not expecting to enter, ever again.

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The movers arrived on Thursday morning; and by then Harry was feeling quite lonely at 4 Privet Drive.

While he realized that he had wished to be accepted by the Dursleys in past and then disliking them because it would never happen, he still missed the feeling of humanity one felt when near others. When the door to Privet Drive was thrown open, his hopes were dashed as five burly men wherein work uniforms bearing patches with the franchise 'John's Moving & Hauling Services'. Having two walk through him was sure evidence that they could not see him. As they worked efficiently and robustly on dismantling the house of all its worldly possessions, they left behind only empty rooms and some filled with assorted snack rubbish.

_'Stay here forever or go outside? Perhaps I could find someone that can see and talk to me.' _

"That would be nice." He stated out loud, it had been to quiet these past days.

With that, he walked out the front door. _'I can almost feel the sun' _He thought inhaling deeply. Going through the motions or actually breathing he was not sure, but it felt good none the less.

He randomly chose a direction, and found his feet taking him down the familiar route he would go when heading to Wisteria Walk. It was funny, now that he thought about it. His relatives would usually make him walk there; while following behind in the car before leaving to whatever fun and exciting thing _he_ had been denied.

Has was at the last cookie cutter house on Privet drive when he saw one of the neighbors that disliked him from before the first time they had met; the walks past her house while being followed by a car probably made him look extremely untrustworthy as it was his family that was doing it.

Mrs. Gordon was in her early forty's, but she looked at least twenty years older. And it showed; in spots and wrinkles. She spent most of her time in the summers over the years sun bathing.

Harry believed it was an attempt to make her appear younger.

As it didn't really work, it made her more ornery as the summer turned into fall. Harry remembered a Christmas party held at the Dursley's when he had been seven; the neighborhood party rotated to different houses every year and that had been the only one he was able to be at.

He was already notorious in the neighborhood, many at the party believed he had been a thief; and while they clutched at their personal belongings, they still showed up. It would be unseemly not to attend a neighborhood function.

Of them all, Mrs. Gordon was the one to openly scowl at his presence.

"Boy. You had better watch yourself at this party; we know what you do, and I've got my eye on you. God is watching your actions as well, you had better choose where you want to go and take actions to improve your behavior or you might end up in someplace you don't want to be." As she said this her eyes rolled to the ceiling as if contemplating a thing of wonder.

"Melissa! Don't say something like that to a child! He's only a second grader!" A younger lady from another street over stated in exasperation.

She turned to Harry, ruffled his hair and smiled, "You look like such a cute little boy; this is the first Christmas party in this area that I've gone to, I'm staying with my sister for the next couple of weeks. As you can see she has a bit of a temper; but as you live here you probably know all about that!" She stated this with a tinkling laugh.

That was the best Christmas he had ever had; though he was a little confused about the "watching you" comment. He had thought God was the ceiling until his homeroom teacher saw fit to correct him on that; _that_ had been a bit embarrassing.

Watching Mrs. Gordon sunbathing made him wonder what had become of her sister. He hoped she was happy wherever she happened to be. He took a left turn and strolled down Wisteria Walk.

Wisteria Walk was slightly less bland than Privet Drive; the houses were older and they came in some other variants of color, pale blues and greens could be seen dotting the rows. Large purple and white flowering trees could be seen in some of the front lawns; in homage to the street those families currently resided on.

The only thing that Wisteria Walk seemed to have more of than the popular tree species was cats.

And there were a lot.

The closer Harry got to Ms. Figg's house, the more numerous the cats got. He was quite sure that most of the people on this street didn't realize the amount of cats that actually dwelled here.

"If there's less than fifty, I'll eat my trainers," He muttered as he passed by a few on the sidewalk.

_"Aaamaaazzzing, aa non noisssey hhhuman!"_ A voice whispered from underneath one of the hedges in the shade of a wisteria tree.

"Hello?" Harry called out tentatively. While he wasn't too afraid of someone causing him bodily harm, as he didn't have one any longer; the mantra of _'don't talk to strangers!' _was still blaring warning alarms in his head.

_"!Hssshssszz! yyyet aanotherr sssurprizzze! The aairryy two-legsss iss a ssspeeakerrr as well_!" The soft voice sounded surprised this time.

Harry's brow wrinkled at this statement as he walked closer to the bush and tried to pinpoint the voice.

"Of course I speak, I'm a human! Where are you?"

_"Down hhere, ssspeaaker! YYou're sspeccial! I'vve never met a sspeeaker before!"_ A brown and black adder rolled out from beneath the bush into the sunlight warming the sidewalk and cocked its head in a decidedly quizzical nature.

_"Wwhy aare yyou ghostleyss? Did yyou forget yyourr ssskin somewheres?"_

Amazed and feeling a bit lightheaded at the fact that he was talking to an adder of all things he responded, "My body died, and so I'm dead as well I suppose."

A forked tongue flipped out and vibrated.

_"Wwwhyy don't yyou go get a new sskinssey then?"_

Harry was flummoxed, he hadn't thought of that at all.

"How would I go about doing that then?"

_"Put yyourssself in an emptyy one."_ The snake stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry frowned slightly, he still wasn't sure that he'd be able to do that. He reached out and gently rested his see through palm on the adder's head. He felt a slight resistance that felt like tingly and cool – like the waters of a river or shade.

The snake moved his head from beneath Harry's hand before he could examine the sensation further.

_"Noo! Myy ssskinsss iss full! If yyyou force yyourrr wayy in sssomeone that'ss aalreadyy full it wwill hurts usss! It'ss wwrong, ssso find an emptyy one!"_ The adder stated while rearing itself up in a threatening pose.

Harry grimaced. He hadn't meant to do anything like that; especially to someone who was helping him. Of the people in this neighborhood, he could count the ones that were actually helpful and nice to him on one hand; Mrs. Gordon's sister that he only met once, Ms. Figg, the mailman, and now this snake.

" 'm sorry! I didn't mean to do anything like that! You've been the first …of anything –to talk and be of help to me! I was just trying to figure out what you meant! Please believe me! Please!"

The adder relaxed a bit and wrapped its coils around itself. It watched Harry for what seemed like minutes before it nodded its scaled head, sunlight shining off its moving scales.

_"Onlyy do that to emptyy ssskinss, if yyou joined with a full one, when yyou leave it ssscrambless upp wwhatss left!Yyou are a two-legger, I aam a sssnake! Sssoo find yyyoursself a neww emptyy one. To old, and itss just meatsss."_

"Okay, so I need to find a recently dead body then? I'll take whatever I can get. Thank you for informing me that I would hurt animals; I guess it's because, were different, then?"

_"Yyyesss_." The snake tilted its head a bit.

Harry's emotions were in turmoil; he did desire a body, he missed being able to interact and touch things.

When he was at the Dursley's house he avoided walking through walls as it made him feel slightly sick remembering that he died. He didn't want to take a human body though as it would be horrible for the family of the dead person. He decided on an animal. The sheer numbers of cats in this area made him believe that there should be at least a few dead things in this area. He wondered what wounds would do to the body; could he take over something heavily injured or was it only if the body was intact?

He focused back on the snake that was intently watching him. Perhaps it would know how to find a suitable body?

Before summer had started, one of his fifth grade classes had required an oral report on an animal; a girl in his class had done a really cool report on snakes, they were supposed to have strong senses to find prey. His report had been on zebras; it had been an average report. Dudley tended to get angry if Harry's grades were better; his gang would chase Harry much longer when they 'played' _Harry hunting_ later on days where he did better.

Asking for an idea seemed smart. Harry sat on the pavement and bet over till he was at eye level with the snake.

"Excuse me, Mr. Snake? Do you know how I could find a body that would be good enough to use?"

The snake hissed it what seemed like approval.

"_Sssomething smellsss of neww death farther down. It ssshould wwork wwell enough."_

Harry straightened his transparent form and stood up. He smiled at the helpful adder.

"Thanks for helping me; you're one of the few who has. Will you be safe here in this neighborhood? I know that your kind is killed on sight if you show up farther down this path."

_"Worryy about getting your own ssskin, ssspeaker. I can hidee very well. Thanksss for the warning. Thiss isss where we part waysss. Remember aairy two legged ssspeaker; predatorsss come in many formsss, alwaysss be wary of your sssssurroundingss_."

And with that, the snake flowed back into the underbrush where Harry could no longer see it.

"Thank you." He continued in the direction that the snake pointed out.

.

It was a cat.

A young cat. He supposed that wasn't too much of a surprise, with numbers as they were.

It was completely black. Its mouth was open in a painful looking yowl, spit and blood leaking out onto the grass. Its eyes were rolled up into the back of its head. Harry kneeled in the grass that he assumed would be cool as it was in the shade of a house.

He reached out and attempted to stroke the fur on cat's back; just as with anything else, his hand went through it. He brought his hand to the front of his face.

"I want to be something, even if it is just a cat. I'll find a way to make myself something. If I have to do it as a cat_, so be it_."

Harry turned his hand back to the cat and quickly drove it through the dead animal's head. He felt the tingly barrier, it was missing the river of consciousness and thought.

With an inhalation, he shattered the barrier.

Rain.

He felt like rain landing in grass, every 'Plip' sensitizing him to a new feeling. Pain, joy, sorrow – emotions rushing past him like high speed winds. He felt like he was being forced through a hose – out! He coalesced into a lake.

He felt tingling, but that was fading, leaving behind, pain.

_ARGGH_! He couldn't _breathe_! The cat must have choked on something! Blackness started to encroach his blurring vision.

'PLONK!' 'Pop!'

"Well, well, well, this was the cause of that magical disturbance?"

A burly voice said just out of range of Harry's vision. He felt something touching his side and chin.

"Bloody hell, Marcus! It's choking! Get me the potions bag!"

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Arthur Weasley awoke from his daydream about ways of muggle-watching when Perkins burst through his office door. In one hand he clutched the Significant Summary Report notifying all divisions of a department with the important dealings of that day. As the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office was on Level Two with the Auror and Hit Wizard Divisions the memo tended to by filled will successful apprehensions of dark wizards.

If it wasn't one of those two, it would be the Improper Use of Magic Department; usually a couple teens were caught every summer. Two weeks ago some boy had been caught literally charming the pants of his girlfriend. Getting the letter at that time must have been quite embarrassing.

"You'll never guess what creature was triggering off the Magic Incidence Report and Risk Observing Relater!"

Arthur Weasley shook his ginger haired head; earlier this morning the departmental alarms blared off a significant source of magic in use in a completely muggle area. While this sometimes happened it was rare that an event would trigger for multiple levels in the ministry. If it did ring for multiple departments that usually signified an extremely hazardous incident.

The last time the MIRROR sounded off for more than two departments; You-know-who was at his peak.

The incident that occurred at 1:28 PM, June 29 –today, fell under the jurisdiction of three departments.

"Arthur! At the epicenter of the magic event they found a normal house cat!"

"Blimey, I thought they were expecting a magical quad X or quintet?"

"They were expecting a XXXXX, a definite wizard killer, highest on the rating scale. The machine must have gone bonkers; it also showed an extremely powerful wizard casting –type Unknown – potential for dark arts 75%. The Aurors that arrived on the scene picked up remnants of a casting, but it dissipated unnaturally fast." Perkins said aloud, eyes flicking all around the memo for the most important pieces.

The magical beast took care of the notification to Level Four: Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The power casting would have registered for Level Two: The Department for Magical Law and Enforcement.

"Were muggles also involved? I heard Level Three was also notified," Arthur stated. It was now ten minutes to six; Molly had asked him to arrive home on time today; Ginny was starting to realize that she would be the only child at home in the upcoming year.

Molly felt that she would feel extremely lonely with the boys gone; she wanted him to start a regime where he would _'arrive before dinner and not after because one of his muggle playthings had broken!'_

"Yeah, but that was actually the truth. Muggles in the house felt the event triggering; the little girl's hair was standing straight up. Obliviators arrived on the scene when the initial aurors called it in as a misreport."

"So what happened with the cat?" Arthur had an idea, and a pet would keep his only daughter busywhen the boys went off to school.

"After removing the mouse it was choking on and…..Ah! Kinglsey employed a re-breather charm along with a basic healing potion; they also performed the '_Ostende nobis occulta'_ chant.

Oh! How weird. The magic configuration in the left over remnants was a four color mixture – violet and grey as dominant colors." Perkins gave a deep throaty laugh, "Guess there were also ghosts involved then?"

"Is the cat available for keeping? My daughter would love to have a pet! It would get Molly off my case." Arthur sheepishly stated. Five minutes to Six.

"No, it seems that after the remnants faded it registered as a magical variety of cat. As it looked like a young normal tom cat, it was probably a mixed breed. They found a large number of magical and normal cats in the area, so not too surprising.

"It was taken in as evidence in case it was needed for a trial, but as they found no signs of an instigating wizard or witch, it was released in the care of Pikas Theria, that young twitchy bloke in the Auror Office who works as a secretary.

He apparently works part time with his mother at the Magical Menagerie; he felt that the cat would go to a good owner; what with the new school year coming up and all."

"Wow, It goes into that much detail!" Arthur was bemused, the secretaries writing the memos must be looking for a raise.

He was happy the cat would be available for buying; unfortunately as Perkins had stated the new school year was coming up and money would be too tight, to purchase it though.

"Nope, that would be a crux for the Heads, no? I encountered Pikas with the cat by chance on my way here. Poor bloke he must have had low grades in transfig, the cage looked quite quilly –he blamed it on the cat. Attempting to reverse it, he said! A neat little escape artist that one will be!"

Arthur looked at the clock. 6:06 PM. Hell he was late, already! Molly would be spouting flames; a proper dragoness she could be!

As fast as possible, he haphazardly gathered up his papers; with arms overflowing he prepared to wish Perkins a good night.

"Never seen eyes on a cat like that before; it looked like a nasty little bugger if you got on its bad side, Avada green eyes and all."

Arthur's skin prickled in a way that had only occurred once before; when his mother threw away his hoard of muggle flip head candy dispensers. Only this time it felt more meaningful.

Perkins looked up from the report to see his boss standing with one leg extended towards the door. He looked up to the small purple clock on the left wall near the desk - it was 6:12 and the clock was now murmuring '_you're late, so very late, will you be sleeping on the couch tonight?_'

Perkins rolled his eyes and gently coughed; Arthur was probably thinking about muggle toys again.

"…erm, Boss? Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" Perkins put as delicately as he could while covering his amusement.

Arthur's eye grew round and he squeaked as he looked at the clock. Then he was flat out running through the office door and into the corridor beyond; leaving a trail of papers behind like an office version of Hansel & Gretel.

Perkins' lips quirked when he heard a resounding crash as Arthur ran into one of the secretaries in the main hall.

As the shouting and apologies commenced, a tall pile of paperwork collapsed from the desk to the floor, joining their sheeted brethren.

Yes, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department was nowhere near glamorous when not involved with the aurors looking for dark artifacts; but it sure could be amusing on a typical day.

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Neville Longbottom sat on his favorite window seat that overlooked the grounds; most specifically the gardens he could be found playing in most days.

He was excited, scared, fearful and happy all at once; his acceptance letter to Hogwarts had arrived and on his birthday no less! This was the best July 30th he had ever had, Neville rarely got presents that fit his appropriate age range. While he knew it wasn't a true present, he kept it safely fastened in the inner pocket of his clean! Outside robes; his Gran had been upset when he showed up in the Tea Room where the Longbottoms traditionally broke their fast. His outer robes were smudged with dirt and he had somehow gotten chamomile flowers and linden petals stuck in his hair.

She didn't ask why he had been sleeping in the garden where Tibby the house elf had awoken him for breakfast. He suspected she knew, and scolded him anyway.

Last night Great Uncle Algie had threatened to kill him for being a squib. If Neville hadn't bounced when his Great Uncle had tossed him off the third story window, he would have died hitting gravel.

While Neville knew his Gran frowned upon her brother's blatant hatred of squibs, she still hadn't stopped him from, as his Uncle liked to put it, _"testing th' boy fer magic, 'Sta!"_ Every time his Uncle Algie put him in a deadly situation, he would then spend hours in the garden; sometimes even sleeping there.

Like he had last night.

Oddly enough he felt safer in the gardens than he did in the Longbottom manor. His Gran often called it the Longbottom Chateau, because their ancestors had won it in a bloody battle against a French dark wizard that was raising inferi in the 1200's.

He believed that it had been a good thing to do, but sometimes the French wizard in ghost form would scream and yell in the cursed room two floors above his own. He didn't leave his room on those nights; he once had when he was five to use the bathroom only to find the floors and walls outside painted with silvery-ghost like blood.

He often wished for his parents to wake up as if from a deep sleep and move him from this place. He would really only miss the gardens, if he could he would live next to the Linden tree where his parents had carved their initials in a heart –it was his favorite tree on the grounds.

If he closed his eyes while standing in the garden, he sometimes felt like he was being gently hugged; not at all like how his Gran would –she had a tendency to squeeze to tight and release him so fast he would stumble.

The garden would feel warm in its hug, sometimes when he opened his eyes the plants would all be leaning towards him. He brushed this off as the plants 'knew who watered them'.

Neville's face contorted at the thought of asking his Great Uncle Algie to find someone to care for the plants while he was away at school. He would be terribly sad to see his plants not grow back in spring.

The door to Neville's room creaked open and Great Uncle Algie stood in his doorway. Long black and grey strands of hair contrasted with his mustard yellow robes bearing the crest that proclaimed him as the Longbottom patriarch. His Gran was considered Head of the Family though; she had an heir to her claim.

"Neville, My favorite grandnephew! All ready to go shopping for your school supplies and to pick up your toad familiar?" His great uncle inquired charmingly, as if he wasn't tossing people out of windows the day before.

Neville flinched a bit and stuttered, "Y-yes, Great Uncle Algie."

"Nonsense boy! you're a wizard now! Call me Uncle Algie, it makes me sound younger!"

"Alright Uncle Algie."

"Good lets go get your things ten. I'm takin' you, on behalf of 'Sta, while she preps the banquet hall for your guests."

Startled Neville quivered out "What guests?"

Fo' your _"Iuncta Magicae"_ ceremony! It celebrates the first time a child displays magic. Though we would have found out today anyway, whot with your letter arriving an' all. All the other upper-class witches and wizards are to come, the ceremony calls for it."

He beckoned Neville to the door; Neville hesitated briefly then acquiesced. His Uncle put a hand on his shoulder and maneuvered them toward the grand fireplace in the entrance hall.

On their way to the fireplace, his uncle looked at him out of the corners of his eyes and continued the conversation he had started in the room about what to expect for the ceremony.

When they reached the white marble fireplace with a perpetual flame that never went out, Uncle Algie grabbed to ornate gold jar that held the necessary floo powder.

Offering it to Neville, who grabbed a fistful; he took some for himself and replaced the jar on the mantle.

Looking at Neville he stated in a sincere way that still wounded Neville anyway, "I wish you would have shown some trace of magic earlier; you must be near squib on the magic spectrum. Must be dirty blood on your mother's side; her father was a squib you know. Luckily her mother wasn't or it would have been squibs begetting squibs."

Turning to the fire his Uncle hefted his floo powder into the fire. With a yell of '_Diagon Alley!" _ he was transported by way of green fire.

Neville watched some of the powder stream out between his fingers locked in a fist. Life was moving too fast and in a way he didn't want to go. His Gran was often telling him to be more like his father who was in Gryffindor, know house for the brave.

Today he would take a step in that direction; while shopping he would get something that he wanted; not something that his uncle forced him to choose.

He only hoped this did not turn out to be a horrible decision.

Sighing, he threw his floo powder into the bright orange flame. With a roar of "DIAGON ALLEY!", he determinedly walked into the dancing emerald flames.

.

.

Woot. That came out longer than I thought it would be – next chapter will have Neville's shopping adventures in the alley, and Harry's woes at being placed in an oh so extremely terrifying pet shop filled with horrors! And other animals. I don't know if it will be as long as this chapter; I need to get a feel for my preferred length.

Also, I changed up the time that Neville was dropped - in the original version it happened when he was 8, and he said it was an accident. I decided to move it up a day before his 11th birthday, for plot purposes.

_Ostende nobis occulta'_ -Show us secrets

_"Iuncta Magicae"_ -Magic joined

All Latin phrases will most likely be pulled from google translate, I haven't taken it in years, but I'd like to think that in situations where I'd put it into use will explain it close enough.

R/R please!


	3. Function

**Disclaimer:**_More sandbox play time, I don't own it! **And yet here we are making sand castles.**_

**_Thanks Dudeabides and Alxzndra for your reviews, I really appreciate them! - LQ_**

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**_._**

**The First Step is Fatal**

Chapter 3: _Function_

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Entering the alley, via the main floo entrance, Neville took a moment to watch the cramped street of Diagon Alley jam packed with all walks of life. House elves gracefully, and some not so gracefully, dodged wizards and witches as they went about errands, and harried parents herded their children around the various shops that supplied the necessary equipment for school. Apparently everyone liked to get supplies as soon as the letters went out. Neville suddenly had a horrid vision of a giant crowd of school children flattening him on his way to breakfast every morning. They couldn't _all_ be going to Hogwarts...and yet maybe they were. There were an awful lot of familiar letters waving around. Oh well. He hoped it wouldn't be this crowded at Hogwarts.

"Neville! Get out of the exit floo! You're blocking other people!"

His uncle's sharp voice snapped him out of his awe induced stupor. Sheepishly Neville turned around and saw impatient faces on those dressed in robes. Apparently they'd all had to find a pretty fast alternative to landing right in front of the fireplace, and none looked too happy at having to dodge into the dirt rather than land on nice cobblestones.

Three people stood out from the rest.

Other than being dressed as muggles, their faces showed awe and amazement instead of irritation and their heads were turning every which way with wide eyes as they tried to soak in as much as possible. He just managed to keep from jumping when he realized that they weren't alone. The stern looking witch beside them was watching him in speculation. Her gaze made him feel oddly small, as though he was supposed to be passing some test that he had not prepared for. Suddenly, her face cleared and her lips twitched upward.

"Is that young Neville Longbottom? Why you look just like your mother at that age."

The world promptly reeled as this information hit him like a sucker punch.

The thought of his parents made his eyes burn. A quick glance at Uncle Algie cured that fast. He was an adult now, a wizard, and a Longbottom. If you were all three of those you did not cry in front of Lord Algernon Weston VanTrisis Longbottom. Not if you wanted to avoid a shaming.

Neville quickly got off the exit platform and dashed over to where Uncle Algie was standing stiffly, followed by the strange witch and the family of muggles. Once free of the platform, Neville turned to the stern looking witch and in no little curiosity asked, "how did you know who my mother was?"

He tried to keep the trembling from his voice. Uncle Algie was watching.

The lady smiled at him.

"Watching your mother blossom into a powerful and capable witch was certainly a treat. I was her Head of House you know. My name is Minerva McGonagall, Gryffindor Head of House and Transfiguration professor. Alice had your face you know. She often came to me for help with charms. Know that my office will be open if you find yourself in need of help as well."

Neville was worried again. "Even if I'm not in Gryffind-"

Uncle Algie cut him off with a sharp rap to the back of the head and harrumphed. "BAH! A sign of almost squibness, indeed! We should never have allowed our line to become so polluted. Augusta should have never let Francis marry the little Fortiscor chit."

Professor McGonagall's face looked like she had swallowed something bitter. Suddenly the stern teacher seemed much more scary than she had ten seconds ago. Neville shrank behind Uncle Algie while simultaneously trying to make it look like he wasn't in fact, hiding.

"You'll do well to remember that the Fortiscor line is much older than your own, _Lord_ Longbottom, and Alice was a wonderful student," McGonagall visibly got herself under control though her nostrils were flared she was breathing sharply through her nose, "Now, before I forget my manners, these are the Grangers, Michael and Jean; their daughter here received her letter yesterday from me and we had planned to pick up her school supplies today."

"Pleasantries then?" Uncle Algie turned to the Grangers with a bored look, nodded his head, and stated imperiously, obviously layering it on as thick as he could manage in order to let the muggles know who was their better, "I am Lord Algernon Longbottom; it is wonderful to make your acquaintance. You must be over the moon for your daughter having magical abilities and moving up in the world. A muggleborn witch is only a step above squibness, after all, but still far surpassing muggles. Boy! Say hello!"

Neville, feeling a combination of embarrassment and awkwardness, turned to the Grangers. More specifically the one at the same height as him. He attempted a smile and quietly, while bowing properly from the waist and said, "I greet you in the name of House Longbottom, my name is Neville."

"Speak up child! No one can hear you when you mutter!"

Neville flinched, ears turning a flaming red. He really was being an embarrassment again.

As he was about to repeat his statement, the bushy haired girl reached out and stated, "My name is Hermione Granger, a… a pleasure to meet you."

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Harry admitted it: he made one rather stupid cat.

A month of being locked in a cage at the most wackiest pet shop he had ever seen and he had completely over looked the most obvious escape route: over the bloody counter.

He needed to be bought, preferably by an older lady, thus he could easily leave. An older lady would be less likely to catch him when he would make his final grand escape; then he would only need to worry about pet catchers. Although, if the pet catchers were anything like the people he had seen in the last month, his chances of being totally free were slim to none.

_'There are dogs, there are cats, and there are men wearing dresses brandishing sticks that spout multicolored sparkles. Nothing makes sense anymore.'_

He still hadn't decided on just what he planned to do or where he planned to go; but any place that did not carry an octopus with rows upon rows of serrated teeth sounded good to him right now.

He looked over at the unholy critter occupying the cage on the floor below his own.

That creature was staring at him with little black beady eyes, that could just be seen above the water level that magically seemed to stay in the cage without glass. Harry had been placed in a cage that dangled from a chain above it and to the right after the three weeks of escape attempts.

Harry wished they'd just let him go; seriously, if he got out of his cage that thing would probably eat him before anyone had a chance to notice he had escaped again.

_'Well played pet store man, you win this round.'_

Harry didn't like the man that had put him in the store very much and the feeling was most likely mutual after Harry had bit him the first night while being placed in a cage next to the front counter.

The lady though, he did not harm. She seemed much too nice to notice any attempt at animosity. This unique talent was often put on display with the odd denizens of the shop; his current 'friend', who was using his crimson tentacles in an attempt to lever itself through the bars had been named "Pulchritudinous" by the lady. It had gained that name when it had, in her words, "noticed that her hair was looking less than stellar, latched on to a beam, dropped on my head and gave the most glamorous hair cut I have ever had. Pulchritudinous' spit must contain natural nutrients for hair as well!"

In Harry's view of the scene, the nasty beast was obviously trying to eat the lady's _head off_.

Unfortunately she had taken it into her head the octopus produced a hair conditioner; her son – whom Harry refused to call anything other than pet store man, was tasked with milking the thing for its spit. Harry would have snickered at the idea if it hadn't involved himself as well. On most days all man had to do was loosen the bars of Harry's cage; the creature would try futilely to lever itself up and Harry was prevented from escaping by the nasty red slimy tentacles that moved faster than they should have.

_'Two birds with one stone' _Harry thought sourly. The Pet store man finished his task while taunting Harry with freedom.

A bowl on the floor would catch the drool. He was nothing if not practical – Harry mused that the Pet store man would probably be termed a Ravenclaw or Slytherin if the hordes of children wandering in lately were anything to go by.

_"Sssoo Furfacce, have yyou deccided to be purcchasssed then?"_ The single headed runespoor in a glass terrarium queried.

Harry had learned in the past month of living in this magical pet shop that snakes had individual personalities just as people do. Along with the fact that there was a crazy amount of magical and weird creatures unknown to the "muggles" of the world.

The one headed runespoor was an extreme example of both; it had originally started out with three separate personalities to go along with its three separate heads, with only the critic surviving a fight that had happened between them. The planner and dreamer heads had been out witted by the critic head. Harry had heard the story of its win against the odds so often he could repeat it in his sleep.

Of the snakes in the shop the only ones he was consistently close enough to hear above the din of the other animals were the single head runespoor and an older ashwinder kept in a fire retardant caldron.

The ashwinder was often asleep; Harry had heard it talk only a few times and it was usually muttering to itself even then. It had probably gone senile from having to listen to the runespoor.

_"Furrfacce, hasss yyour mind lost itsss way bacck to yyour head?"_ The critic taunted again.

Harry's ears lay flat and he hissed, _"Yess,if it makes you shut it, you annoying lump of a reptile."_

Pacing on the side of the cage that Pulchritudinous was not on, Harry hoped that an old lady would come and buy him soon. The older the better; he felt he had a better chance to get away once they were lulled into a false sense of security, he was quite prepared to use his 'big innocently cute eyes' to bag himself a supporter. Even if he felt it was a bit demeaning.

'CREAK'

Harry peered around his side of the cage, something had moved; as there were no ooze covered tentacles sliding about his paws it must have come from –

'CRRREEAAAK'

Above.

The chain suspending his carrier from the ceiling was weakening; Pulchritudinous must be strong enough to pull the cage down.

'CReeea- _Chink_'

Harry instinctively dashed as fast as his paws could carry him to side with the tentacles; dodging the first he reached the edge intending to jump.

He slid in the ooze, missed the edge and fell downward.

Harry found it ironic that he was once again falling through the air; only this time with death waiting to eat him at the bottom.

Bugger.

Harry really sucked at being a cat.

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Neville was annoyed to find out that his uncle had ordered ahead at most of the shops. He spent less time in the bookstore than he was originally planning to. Admittedly, Neville knew his relatives had been rather put out when he had spent an entire day holed up in the horticulture section. '_But that had only happened once, and I was five!'_ He had a good reason, he felt at the time to stay in the section; Gran was needed at the Court and it happened to be the most boring place Neville had ever been to at that time.

The wand shop was completely bypassed, his uncle told him that it was expected by the family that Neville uses his father's wand. Neville really had wanted to disagree with this; but it was a tradition for the first son to take up his father's wand, if the father had fallen in battle. And his family did consider his father's death as falling in battle; even though it had taken place after the war had ended.

In the olden days, as his uncle would tell it, well made wands were passed down through the Families. It had been too chaotic in the magical world to purchase wands often, families fought for power and land just as their muggle counterparts had. Hogwarts put a stop to most of the feuding, allowing witches and wizards a reprieve from fighting totally amongst themselves. A good point too, Uncle Algie would say, for the next hundreds of years the muggles would attempt to kill their betters by route of persecution and fire.

The apothecary was a quick in and out; he had wanted to buy cuttings of some of the live plants. Uncle Algie hated things that smelled strongly of putrefaction and dried herbs, so he would send Neville in with a time limit. While Neville quite loved the plant areas, he got the willies when seeing the jarred animal parts.

The only place that he spent any time in at all really, was Madam Maulkin's. He stood in an uncomfortable silence as he was measured. He was quite embarrassed by some of the places that the measuring tape need to measure; his cheeks pinked when the assistant collecting his numbers said that he required the next size up and it would need to be hemmed. His uncle, with his usual bluntness looked at him and said "Yes, he is a bit wide for his age isn't he?"

They ate lunch at one of the upscale restaurants that overlooked the brighter part of Diagon Alley. Gringotts was a shining point that filled the window with reflected light as they ate delicacies that Tibby the house elf rarely made.

Everything was preordered of course; Neville didn't even get a chance to touch a menu before spiced pumpkin tart appetizers made their way to the table. Uncle Algie's favorite. Same case for the courses after that.

There was only one store left.

Uncle Algie had promised to buy Neville a toad for displaying his magic before receiving his letter to Hogwarts. Neville wondered if that was why his letter had arrived on his birthday, it was one of the last few days that owls would deliver them. If a child did not receive their letter before August, the school would send out a representative. Letters could be delayed by being out of country, constantly moving large distances, and sometimes not having a home counted as well. Neville figured if anything his uncle had charmed him to be undetectable to owls. It was a tradition among some of the older pureblood families to bind a familiar to a child the first time they displayed magic. His ceremony was to take place at 12:30 am that night.

_Iuncta Magicae_, the joining ceremony between a child and his first familiar, signifying the bonds wizards and witches have to magic. Neville felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick up at the thought of it.

According to his uncle, many of the old families would be there. He really hoped not.

As Neville attempted to keep up with his much longer legged guardian, they passed many happy families that stuck in close knit groups with laughing children sprinting about on the cobblestone road.

Neville accidently ran into his Uncle while not watching where he was going again. His uncle had stopped right in front of the door of Magical Menagerie; the windows were painted up with prices of animals and pets that wiped themselves clean after a minute and posted other species and prices.

Quailing at being caught not paying attention to his surroundings, he darted through the door, which announced that a customer had entered. His uncle rolled his eyes and entered as well.

Entering the Magical Menagerie, the first thing Neville noticed was the overpowering smell of animals crowded in a small area. At least it smelled more alive than the apothecary.

"Alright Neville, it's time to go get your familiar. Toads are down the middle aisle on the left. I'll stay up front; the smell of these animals bothers my allergies." Uncle Algie stated shooing Neville down the aisle pointed out.

_'Black Canarus Toad. Folium Magus Frog. Oh my, another frog –would plain brown be the most off-putting I can choose?'_

As Neville made his way through the choices he heard a metallic groaning coming from deeper in the store. Curious, Neville rounded the aisle in time to see a cage hanging on a chain containing a cat being pulled down by an octopus monster, snapping the rusted metal chain.

Out the cat went.

The noise of the chain breaking set off a symphony of sounds, as if the animals in the surrounding area were giving the cat their last parting good bye.

Running forward, he was just able to catch the black cat before it landed into the maw of the blood red octopus beast.

_'Ooffhsss'_ the cat wheezed as Neville caught it about the waist.

Flipping it over and looking it in the emerald eyes, Neville had an idea.

One that wouldn't be liked much by his uncle at all.

Formally asking an animal to be his familiar was one of the steps he was told to consider while choosing a toad. So why not just up the ante and ask a cat?

Neville waited for the feline to finish panting before confessing, "No one left in my family will let me choose what I want to do. I don't want a toad! Will you be my familiar?"

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Harry couldn't believe that someone was asking him to be their pet. That one was new.

It was usually _"Oh what a pretty kitty, I want this pretty kitty."_

Until Harry started to bite. He had hoped the nasty reputation would see him kicked out the door.

But this was different, very different. He could respect this. Being a pet for a little while sounded better than being eaten by Pulchritudinous the toothy octopus and possibly excreted as hair conditioner.

He gave the kid a nod, and then used his shoulder as a perch.

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Neville was slightly disturbed when it seemed like the cat actually thought about and answered the question; but maybe he had underestimated the intelligence of cats.

Or he had actually found a familiar that was compatible with him? How unexpected.

He had figured he was going to end up with that plain looking toad; the_ Iuncta Magicae _ritual was purely a tradition now as Neville understood it. Symbolism that went over his head and made adults happy.

Walking sideways a bit due to extra weight on only one shoulder, Neville strolled back to the front of the were the employee at the checkout counter looked up in surprise.

"Bait cat is allowing himself to be bought now?"

"Bait cat?" Neville questioned in horror, raising a protective hand to the black cat resting on his shoulder.

"Not nearly as bad as it sounds! I swear to Merlin! But the infant Akkorokamui, the octopus looking thing in the pen underneath it, produces spittle that is useful in potions. He's taken a liking to drooling over the little black bait cat sitting on your shoulder. It's a very rare species from the bay area of northern Japan; the spit is priceless. Anyway, Pikas will be glad to see bait cat go." The young attendant rolled her eyes.

"Why?" Neville asked, stroking the now purring cat.

"Bait cat likes to bite him. Go get your guardian and I'll have everything ready to go."

The small cat stepped down Neville' arm, sat on the counter and proceeded to clean its whiskers.

Neville steeled himself for the upcoming argument by taking a deep breath of animal infused air. He pushed open the door which chimed a _'thank you for coming!_'

Uncle Algie was leaning against the wall flipping through a copy of the Daily Prophet. Walking over to him, Neville stumbled over some stones lying in the road, alerting his uncle to his presence. Uncle Algie folded his newspaper looked down at Neville and smiled.

"So you found a good toad then, that called out to you? Did you choose a name yet? I always thought Trevor sounded like a good name for a toad."

"No, I decided on a cat." Neville tensely stated while watching his uncle for signs of anger.

"Go back and choose a toad, then. Longbottom boys have always had toads." His uncle demanded while flicking open the paper once more

"But I want this cat. I'll buy it on my own if I have too." Neville argued while turning back to the store. He still had some money left from over from Christmas. He rarely got money on his birthday, and that had held true this year. His older relatives had forgotten how old he was once again, and he now had a year subscription to the Daily Prophet for himself and Tertridge's Tea Magazine.

As he reached the counter to ask how much the cat was his uncle walked in.

"No! You can't buy a familiar for yourself. It doesn't work that way. Are you dead set on getting this scrawny creature?" Uncle Algie asked while poking the cat in the side with a skinny wrinkled finger. The cat hissed.

Neville stared at the cat as it turned to him with its brilliant green eyes.

"Yes." Neville said moving his determined gaze to his uncle.

The employee rang up the prices of the cat and a container full of treats. After doling out the correct amount of galleons and sickles on the counter, his uncle turned to him.

"Since you've shown some backbone and stuck with your decision you may have the beast. Cats require more care than toads, boy. Be sure you remember that. When we arrive home go take a nap. It's a tradition to perform the bonding ceremony for a child that newly displays magic after midnight."

His Uncle gripped the back of his overcoat and steered him in the direction of the floo fireplaces.

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Neville was restless.

He didn't like sleeping inside the house at anytime; but knowing that some kind of tradition would soon happen with him as a major player made him toss and turn. He really hoped he didn't screw it up. Or at least screw it up too badly. The waiting was making him jittery, his leg kept shaking. He sat up, and unrolled his sheets down.

Looking over at his bedside clock, he saw it was now 11:42 PM – He was supposed to sleep till midnight, with just enough time to be ready by the half hour.

Past eleven wasn't too bad for him, it was more than five hours; the sleeping dose must have been larger than he thought.

"Murr."

Following the sound, he saw that the cat was still in the dusty kennel his uncle had ordered a house elf to dig out of storage.

Neville, in his blue pajamas covered in teddy bears, moved over to the kennel and released the lock; the cat quickly streaked out and proceeded to explore the room.

Watching the cat sniff about his bed, Neville uttered, "Don't get to used to this room, in a month Hogwarts is starting, and then you'll have an _entire_ castle to explore."

He had decided to be excited about going to Hogwarts, no matter the population size.

The cat turned to him and started licking its paw, eyes focused on Neville.

"I hope I make some friends there; I haven't had too many chances here at home. My relatives keep forgetting how old I am." Neville sighed and sat down at the widow seat next to the desk.

It was too dark to see the garden clearly but some of the night blooming flowers gleamed in the bit of moonlight peeking out from behind the clouds. The flowers looked like floating star dust on a brackish sea.

"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is supposed to be new this year as well; our parents were in the same house. They were friends." Neville spoke absently.

If he had turned around, he would have seen the cat staring at him incredulously.

"I hope we can be friends as well. If our parents had survived the war okay, I think we would have been friends way before Hogwarts."

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.

Harry was fed up with the melancholy in the room.

He felt fluttery inside at the idea that someone actually wanted to be his friend; he was too used to Dudley keeping him friendless at school.

He was more amazed that all the boy-who-lived sayings applied to him. Oh, he knew the story, being in a pet shop and near the front counter put him in the perfect position for over hearing conversations.

Not that anyone cared that a cat was listening in.

He sneezed delicately at the thought that he _had_ died, so that phrase probably wouldn't fit him anymore.

_'Or would it fit even more now?'_ He flicked an ear confusedly.

Jumping over to the desk, he pulled out a piece of paper with his teeth; it was harder to do than he thought.

The inkpot he overturned, it spilled out on half the paper and down the desk legs onto the carpet.

Dipping his paw into the spill – _cold!_ – he smeared out words onto the paper.

_'HARRY POTTER DIED'_

Dodging about and leaving ink paw prints on the carpet, he jumped into Neville's lap, chattering.

Neville absently scratched him behind the ears.

"I didn't even get to name you. This collar," Neville said hooking a finger underneath the leather wrapped around Harry's neck," already says _Sable_. I would have chosen Inky or something."

At that, Harry reached up and smeared the ink on his paws all over Neville's arm.

"Hey stopit! You're getting me dirty!" Neville burst out, while quickly standing, causing the cat to fall to the floor.

Harry yowled and scurried over to the desk and turned to Neville.

Neville got up from the window seat, stretched, and attempted to wipe the ink from his hand. Realizing that he was just spreading it about, he gave up and went over to the desk.

"Why would you write something like that? How can you write?" Neville yelled, while the cat jumped onto the desk top.

Harry dipped his paw once more in the spill, underlined _Harry Potter_ that he had written before and drew an arrow above the name. He flicked off the extra ink and made his way around the desk, so that the arrow pointed from the name to his feline self.

Harry sincerely hoped Neville would understand this.

Harry nodded when he saw the understanding on Neville's waxen face.

"NO, You can't be Harry Potter! He's been secreted away by Albus Dumbledore! He's the savior of the wizarding world! Not-A-CAT!" Neville shouted while his face rapidly progressed to white.

At some point in Neville's rant the clock on Neville's dresser struck twelve. Harry's ears flicked to window were he could hear tapping.

Neville must have heard it as well; he stopped shouting. Looking at the window where a dark shape seemed to be buffeting it with wings.

Unlocking the window, caused an owl to fly in and drop a letter in front of Harry, who attempted to catch it in his paws. Hooting in irritation the owl ascended towards the ceiling and flicked its tail feathers in a taunt before descending back out through the window.

_'I seem to be taunted by animals of all kinds these days.'_ Harry thought while watching the owl swoop out the window.

Turning his head back to the dirty blond before him, Harry watched Neville come back over to the desk and pick up the letter.

.

.

"Merlin's beard! You really are Harry Potter!" Neville exclaimed, holding the letter delivered by the unknown school owl, and looking at it from all angles.

"It's your Hogwarts Letter!" He said, placing the letter addressed for '_Mr. Harry Potter, Cat Bed in the corner of Neville Longbottom's Room'_.

Neville sat on his bed with a 'thud', accidentally slapping his forehead.

Wincing, Neville murmured to the mauve ceiling, "What 'm I supposed to do now?"

He laid there until an anxious house elf dressed in a dark blue pillowcase with the Longbottom crest embroidered on the corner appeared.

_'Pop'_

"Young Master Longbottoms is being required in ballroom, sir! Master Longbottoms isn't finished changing into his dress robes yet! You supposed to be finished now! Master Neville is covered in ink!" Tibby shrieked after appearing at the foot of the bed.

Neville looked over to the desk where Harry and the letter were, ignoring the antics of the house elf as it removed the ink covering him with a snap of its fingers.

Harry was back to the spilt puddle of ink making more of a mess while attempting to write on any available clean surface.

_'Do they know that I died?'_ Neville read aloud.

"I would suppose not; they usually don't send letters to dead people"

_'Am I still a student then?'_

"You have a letter. Hey, they might be able to fix you! Turn you back into a boy!" He exclaimed in happiness at something possibly working out.

_'I wasn't turned into a cat. I died.' _Harry helpfully reminded him.

Neville scrunched his face up, "I don't know if they will be able fix you, but you should be careful, possession is usually considered a Dark art."

_'Then don't tell anyone. I will go to school, as your pet. I will learn how to get my body back.' _Harry scrawled half on the desk.

"Yes, Harry! Hogwarts has a really good library! We'll find a way to get you as a human again!"

"Master Longbottoms must stop talking to his pet about dead thingses and get his robes on, he is already very very late!"

As Neville scurried into the changing room he stopped, turned and with eyes impenetrable blue, he stated, "I will do my best to help you, on my honor as a Longbottom."

_'Why?_' The cat looked at him with its head canted at an angle.

Neville smiled. "Because it's the right thing to do."

"MAS'ER LONGBOTTOM YOUR FORMAL ROBES NEED GETTING ON NOW!"

Neville's eyes lost their seriousness as he wobbled from the room with an "urk!" leaving behind a snickering cat in the room.

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.

Neville was so happy that the ritual was over with. Not that the ritual had been bad in itself, but there were too many eyes in the room watching him. He had thought it would only be some families that were allied to the Longbottom name; but many Pureblood couples were in attendance. The Malfoys, Bones, Greengrass, and Smiths to name a few.

And they all saw him trip down the last step into the ballroom. Being labeled as a klutz by the pureblood community wasn't nearly as bad as seeing the disappointment in his Gran's features. The ballroom was wood floored with all of the tables pressed to the sides and the three chandeliers lit. Neville felt that the clatter made by his misstep must have echoed around the silent room.

The binding ritual with the cat was interesting; Neville had never seen one preformed before. He had been little wary of the ritual being done between him and whatever Harry was considered to be.

His Gran had said before the ceremony was preformed that it was to honor the old codes between man, familiar and magic; so perhaps it was just for show now?

In any event, a drop of blood from his left hand was placed with a drop of blood from, the newly deemed _'Sable', _the cat's left paw pad. His Gran incanted over the blood; alluding to times in the past when familiars would appear to help their chosen during periods of peril to bring harmony with bravery and strength.

The Longbottom family animal was a toad; for a past ancestor's familiar had been one and it had brought wealth to the family.

At the end of her story she took the mixed blood and dabbed it on Neville's left palm. His Gran spoke once more, but he didn't understand anything she stated as the words seemed to blur together. The surrounding watchers clapped appropriately and then the music picked up and the adults dissipated to different areas of the room.

And with that Neville found himself shaking off the stinging in his arm with Harry Potter as a cat sitting on his right shoulder.

.

.

Harry was quite sure that Neville didn't feel that tell-tale bit of magic that circled about them as Neville's grandmother chanted that last bit of spell? Story?

Anyway, his left shoulder felt a bit stiff. And tingly. Familiar with the tingly feeling of having a limb asleep from the times when he slept in his cramped cupboard, Harry flexed his shoulder while attempting to stay on the moving Neville.

Neville reached up and gently lifted him down to the surface of a table pushed to the side of the room.

Yawning, Neville stated, "I really don't know why this had to be so late; I think, I'm heading off to bed, I want to water my plants in the morning. Coming?"

The cat nodded and climbed back up Neville's arm.

"Ouch! Guess I'll need thicker robe sleeves from now on huh?" Neville chuckled sleepily as he walked to the stair case and around some of the chatting adults.

He would have stayed if there had been anyone his age to talk to; with none there it had become an adult social.

Walking to the banister leading to the second floor he could hear bits and pieces of the conversation as they passed.

_"This year's crop of Hogwarts' first years is looking particularly good."_

_"I don't believe it! Harry Pot – "_

_"I find this party to be a bit blasé Lady Longbottom; your grandson must have inherited little of young Francis' strength. His joining with a familiar was when he was six, wasn't i–"_

_"Yes, I agree. Draco and Mr. Potter will probably be their year's leaders."_

_"Did Harry Potter have a bonding ceremony as well?"_

_"No one knows, his whereabouts have been kept a secret by Albus Dumble –"_

_"What I wouldn't do to be in this year's Hogwarts class!"_

"Congratulations on your joining with a familiar Mr. Longbottom." A silvery voice flowed through the air next to his Neville's head.

Harry's hackles rose at the sound of that voice, danger signals blaring off in his head.

Neville jumped and turned around in startlement. Harry winced when he felt Neville wince as well; his claws came out on instinct when he lost his balance as his perch moved too fast.

"S-sir?" Neville stuttered into the face of one Lucius Malfoy. The Senior Malfoy was clutching his cane between his hands while looking down at Neville with one eyebrow raised. To Harry, the smirk crossing his face made it seems as though the man was eyeing a possible future servant.

"Hm? Yes I was just thinking about the current group of first years heading off to Hogwarts, just as many of the guests are speaking of. Do you know what House you plan on being in?" Lucius stated with an absent wave of his hand towards the crowds behind him.

"I'd like to be in Gryffindor, but Gran and my uncle think I will be in Hufflepuff." Neville stated warily while backing up a foot.

"Ah good. That would be a better choice than Gryffindor. You are the heir to the Longbottom line; it would be a tragedy if something were to befall you while in that house. As you know most of the graduates from Gryffindor didn't seem to last long during the last war."

Mr. Malfoy had leaned closer to Neville and Harry, who could smell the scent of cedar and peppermint wafting off the man.

"But Sir, there _isn't_ a war anymore." Neville stressed in defense of his choice.

"Mr. Longbottom, do your future self a favor and for the good of the pureblood lines, be in Hufflepuff." Lucius Malfoy, leaned back walked around Neville and headed up the stairs. As he passed the boy, the tall blond haired man whispered silkily "perhaps the last war hasn't finished yet. It wouldn't do well for you to end up like your _parents_."

Neville's eyes widened in horror. Harry hissed in anger; the blond man could have been talking to either of them at that point.

Harry really wanted to attack the man but he held back, it would be inadvisable against a magic user; he would most assuredly injure himself rather than the smirking blond man.

Harry decided to save that fight for later, he had other current problems.

Such as how to communicate more easily.

Dipping his paws into ink and smearing them around on the thicker paper used by wizards and witches would get very tedious fast. From what he could tell, the thick paper was the writing mode of choice. When he first saw the sales people in the pet shop using quills, he laughed out loud. It came out like a hoarse barking cough.

Regardless, the old fashioned technique would still be more useful.

While Neville slinked up the stairs and through the corridors, Harry wondered if magic was the answer.

He remembered some of the action figures and comic books that Dudley had; he had only been allowed to see the covers of course. He was quite sure that some of them had some kind of telepathy power or–

"REOOOOORRRRRWWWWW!"

.

.

The walls in the corridor leading to his bedroom were bleeding again.

_'Enough of this, the next time I get a chance to visit a bookstore, I'm getting a book on ghosts and possessions; there is entirely too much of that going around in my life right now!' _Neville thought while trying to stay in the exact middle of the hallway.

Neville didn't know how it would happen, but he was determined to be a Gryffindor.

Even if that meant standing up to the creepy manor ghost.

Gryffindor was the house of his parents; he wanted to feel closer to what they once were before they needed to be placed in St. Mungos.

A bust of a wizard, whose name had been lost in time, followed his movements in a spooky sightless way as he moved down the corridor.

Merlin, how he hated this manor house.

_"REOOOOORRRRRWWWWW!"_

Neville's left arm moved under its own power.

It shot out with palm facing the bust, then facing the walls.

Neville winced as small claws dug into his shoulder. He could hear heavy panting as the cat shook on his shoulders.

"Harry, Harry, its okay! The walls just _do_ that!" Neville stated awkwardly while trying to calm the cat down with one arm.

His left was still moving spastically like a windmill in what seemed to be an attempt to ward off the walls.

"Ha-Harry? Are you doing that?" Neville whimpered, watching his left arm whip about.

The arm stopped flailing and came to a stop in front of him. It was like gaining some lost piece of information; he instinctively knew he was back in control of it.

Harry made a graceful leap off his shoulder and dashed towards Neville's room.

Neville found himself fast walking to his room while twitching his hand, it felt slightly like it had fallen asleep. All tingly again.

Upon entering his room he saw that Harry had tipped over the inkwell once again and was splashing ink about with fervor on a sheet of parchment.

_'I didn't mean to do that! Sorry! The bloody walls! Ritual?'_ Harry had smudged about the sheet.

He underlined the word ritual.

"Did you feel something during it?" Neville asked as he pulled out the chair and sat down at the old fashioned desk.

"Murr." And a head nod.

"Well okay then." Neville stated weakly. Replacing the ink pot right side up, he rolled up the used paper after shooing Harry off it.

Taking a deep breath, "Do you think you can do it again?"

Harry wiggled his shoulders then decisively nodded and jumped on his shoulder.

Neville closed his eyes tightly.

When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, the first thing he noticed was a quill end waving about in front of his face. Harry had used his inkpot as a weight on one edge of the paper.

He couldn't feel it but his left hand was clutching a quill, and badly too. It was very strange for Neville to not feel it, he just felt a bit empty where his arm should be.

Looking at the scratches written out on the parchment Neville said out loud, "Looks like you are going to need to practice your penmanship."

.

Okay! Got that one out, Next chapter will be set a month later; finally they're heading off to Hogwarts! I've been told that I use commas and semicolons like crazy; sorry about that. I'm hoping it will go away if I keep writing things other than research papers.

R/R please!


	4. Factions

**Disclaimer:** If I had owned it, there would have been more dragons. Just saying. :)

Thanks for your reviews: Jim Red Hawk, Greener, Sh777, Dudeabides, and Harlequin de Rustre!

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**The First Step is Fatal**

Chapter 4:_ Factions_

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It was the night before they were due to leave on the Hogwarts Express that Neville found himself in something of a quandary.

His father's wand was completely unresponsive to his touch.

While many wands could be used without being the wielder's first choice, they would be less than optimal. In those cases, if the wand was compatible it would still spark a bit.

Neville had a worst case scenario; the wand was completely unresponsive.

He had attempted a few basic spells. As it had been the night before the first day of school, the trace was relaxed for students. Most people didn't know about that though, but his Gran had once worked in that department. She looked disappointed when he tried the lumos spell at the dinner table. After the fifth attempt Uncle Algie had shook his head and muttered while Gran told him that a school environment might be more beneficial.

If he had been allowed to handle it years before hand, it may have recognized his magic signature. His Gran had stored it in a glass case on the mantle of the fireplace. She had only given it to him a couple days ago; Gran was probably afraid that he would break it. When he had been a younger child he had attempted to play with it. She had swooped like a hawk and it was safely back in its glass case before Neville had even know what had happened.

It would take some time for the wand to become acquainted with him, years even. Aunt Enid had said that in one of her lucid states right after drinking her morning potions. She had a habit of not taking them; she described the taste of of them as the inside of a fermented shark that had been eating mouldy socks.

He made sure to never accidently take them, the description made him turn green alone.

Neville sighed as he attempted to cast the lumos spell once more. Holding the wand up and saying the incantation, he got a tiny trail of smoke. No light or spark.

Still not quite working.

Not a good way to start a school year.

Neville had a sneaking suspicion that his mother's wand would work better, as his living family constantly told him that he seemed more like her than his father.

Explaining to Harry why his relatives had wanted him to use his father's wand had put the entire situation into perspective.

Harry had scribbled on a piece of parchment that it sounded like his relatives wanted him to be his father. Neville figure that this was probably true; he had never been able to live up to their expectations before. And using his father's wand would not get them to see that he was a different person.

He wouldn't be at his greatest with equipment that didn't work for him, as well.

Harry had been less than enthused when he had found out that Neville had originally intended to go along with it and use his father's wand. Neville could understand his reasons for disagreeing.

Being in the pet shop and hearing children talk about their shopping trips had thoroughly ingrained the idea that '_the wand chooses the wizard'_, in the little pseudo-feline. The twelve inches oak and hippogriff claw wand currently in his hand was not meant for him to use.

.

The past month with Harry had been extremely interesting. He found out that Harry was a little trouble magnet. At least he was kept busy during the month with attempting to use a quill.

Harry had Neville grab an empty journal that he would use to practice writing with Neville's left hand. It had been extremely calming to sit out in his garden telling Harry about magic and the world Harry had missed out on, while the cat used his arm to write questions in and practice with a quill. Harry had shared a few muggle things as well; Neville hoped that they could sneak out of the house next summer to see one of those 'movies' that Harry had talked about. It seemed like a brilliant invention.

Rather than relying on his relatives to keep the garden alive and growing, he had visited Tibby and a few other house elves who would prepare his garden for winter when he would be away at school for the next few years. His garden was important to him, and the the house elves were good at taking care of things.

Succeeding in Hogwarts was important to him as well.

His arm had gone tingly once more; it was now more of an ignorable buzz when Harry took control of it. Sometimes it tickled. Neville was quite happy to lend it to him as he wasn't using it for much.

The past month had seen Harry's handwriting improve by leaps and bounds, Neville was quite proud to teach someone how to hold a quill correctly. Even if it was someone using his other hand to mirror it.

Perhaps he would look into teaching when he was done with his schooling.

Allowing Harry to write with it while Neville cracked open his Herbology text once more, Neville perused the book for his favorite species with his right hand. Sitting at the desk was not his favorite spot as the chair was uncomfortable, but he wanted to be able to read Harry's handwriting if they were going to pull this off at Hogwarts.

"I can't wait until we work with Fanged Geraniums! According to this they can sense movement and heat signs_! 'Fanged Geraniums have been known to bite humans who move in range when the plants are especially low in nitrogen._' This class is going to be brilliant!" The past month had seen Neville speaking out loud often, especially when reading.

His Gran had looked at him funny the first time she had caught him at it, but his uncle assumed he was just exhibiting some new strange behavior along with his plant fascination.

Not that he seemed to remember that Great Aunt Enid, Uncle Algie's wife did the exact same thing when she was off her meds.

Neville continued to read his book while Harry controlled his arm, practicing the alphabet over and over again. He had quite the drive for a person; Neville remembered loathing his penmanship classes with his Gran. Not only had she been scary, but she would teach him inside around noon, when he preferred to be in the garden.

When Harry had started to nudge Neville's elbow with his furry liitle head, Neville placed a bookmark in the text book and looked over to what Harry had written.

_'Figured out how to get a wand yet?'_

"I suppose that I was just going to buy one from Ollivander's, before we got on the train."

Some of the pureblood families had left him small gifts after the bonding ceremony. Neville found it vaguely ironic that Lucius Malfoy would be buying his wand; originally he had planned to order candy when at Hogwarts with it, but this seemed like a much better investment.

Neville knew he would be cutting it close; the train was to leave at one in the afternoon while the stores opened at ten. As long as finding his wand didn't take too long, he should have just enough time to add in a trip to the bookstore.

Great Aunt Enid was to be the one to take him to the train; his Gran and uncle would be busy with other head of family business.

Aunt Enid would probably take him to the train a few minutes before it would leave; as old as she was she tended to sleep in till noon. Her marriage to his Uncle Algie had been an arranged one; she happened to be twenty years older than him.

She was also losing her hearing and smelled slightly of musty rose petals. But she smiled often at him so Neville liked her. Her advanced age prevented her from remembering what would be appropriate gifts for his age though. Oddly enough it had been one of these gifts that had sparked his love for plants.

When Neville had been six she had given him a Fireblooming Voracifera. It had licked him and almost set him on fire, but from that day on he had been fascinated with plants.

Harry was nudging him again, but Neville had no need to read what Harry had written.

"Don't worry," Neville happily asserted while heading to bed, "I have a plan."

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'_THIS WAS A BLOODY BAD PLAN!'_

Neville read in the small flipbook he kept on himself for Harry to write with.

As Harry had written it while Neville was jogging down the cobblestone path of Diagon Alley, the writing spiked all over the small page.

Neville had learned earlier that month to fold up a cloth and place it underneath his shirt on his left shoulder. Harry dug his claws in for dear life as Neville ran past multitudes of stores.

Finding a good book on wraiths and possession had taken longer than he thought it would. And they had gotten very lucky.

It had been in one of the age restricted aisles that would alert the store mangers if anyone not meeting the requirements entered. Feeling crushed at the thought of not finding one; he had stood dejectedly in front of the aisle that seemed like the highest possible chance of carrying it. When he had given up looking through the general sections open to everyone he had asked a clerk who had given him a level stare and suspiciously stated that those books would be carried in the restricted section.

Or at least he had moped there at the dead end of his book search until Harry had passed through the barrier unobstructed without setting off the alarms. It was then decided that Harry would get a book that seemed like it would carry information that could be useful.

Neville had ducked into another aisle close by and absently browsed the shelves. He found himself looking at a section of image concealing books for teenage girls when he heard the thump of a book dropping in another aisle.

Quickly looking about the stack, he noticed his cat-like friend dragging the book over; as soon as they crossed the barrier, Neville scooped them both up and darted into the section he was in before.

Flipping the dark leather book over, he winced at the title of the book.

_' Gain Dominion of the Weaker Minded – A Look into the Dark Sorcery of Wraiths and Apparitions.'_

Looking at Harry with an eyebrow raised he asked sarcastically, "Gee Harry, was there one with a more obvious title in that aisle? I'm not sure if the whole world will figure out what we're up to with this."

Harry rolled his large emerald eyes and pretended to hack up a hairball.

There was no way he was going to be able to buy that alone, so he randomly grabbed a few books on makeup and concealing charms. They had spent a too much time in the store so he quickly paced to the front.

Neville was sweating buckets when he found himself at the lead of the line being beckoned by a cashier with blue streaked hair and nose rings.

She had paused before flipping the dark book over to find the price on the back as she chatted with the store manager. Neville thought he might have blacked out for a moment there, before she flipped it over and recorded the price.

The cashier had checked him out without a hitch while yawning even though it was almost noon. He exited the store white faced and twitching; while reading up on these subjects weren't prohibited, any attempt at casting or using that knowledge could have one thrown into Azkaban.

Turning into the direction of Ollivander's he did his best to sprint around the road awakening with people shopping in the afternoon.

.

.

And so here he was now, a few minutes before noon running to the wand maker's shop.

There it was!

Pulling Harry from his shoulder and cradling the cat to his torso, Neville hit the door causing it to bang open ringing the tiny doorbell.

Dropping Harry to the floor, where he leaned against Neville's leg purring, he tried to catch his breath by griping his knees and taking in large gulps of air.

.

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"Well, well, well. Mr. Neville Longbottom, I presume? I had wondered if I would be seeing you this year."

"Sir?" Neville questioned the elderly white haired man that had emerged from the shadows.

"Your father's wand, Oak 12 inches with the claw of a particularly inquisitive male hippogriff. Is it still in good condition?"

"Yes, my Gran keeps it on the mantle; they wanted me to use it for Hogwarts but…" From his lower vantage point Harry saw Neville biting his lip.

Harry leaned upward on Neville's leg causing him to look down, hoping to grant him courage. After a few seconds, Neville looked back up to Ollivander who was looking on with extremely intent pale eyes, and stated firmly,

"I want my _own_ wand."

Mr. Ollivander smiled while nodding enthusiastically, "Yes, Mr. Longbottom I believe I can outfit you with a wand that was made just for you."

And with that he pulled out his tape measure and set it to measuring Neville while he paced paced about the front of the shop.

"Oh, yes. The perfect wand for you; I fill that you will be quite the complicated customer, Mr. Longbottom. Quite complicated _indeed_!" Ollivander announced excitedly while pulling out boxes of wands.

Harry had a bad feeling about that phrase; he hoped that complicated didn't mean it would take hours.

With nothing else to do but wait while Neville blew up various artifacts in the store; Harry yawned and curled up at Neville's foot.

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_'Come on! No._

_ Come on! No. _

_Come on! NO!_

_Fifty-seventh try for LUCK! NO! Bollocks!'_

The Hogwarts express was set to leave in thirty minutes, and he still hadn't found his wand.

Neville was quite sure he was overdosing on adrenaline; the muscles in his legs kept twitching. He did _not_ want to be known as the Kid-Who-Missed-The-Train.

Mindlessly grabbing the next wand, he flourished it with little hope of getting it to respond.

Red sparks with a faint tinge of gold shot out of the wand accompanying a steady roar.

Harry sat up and yowled his approval.

"Cherry and the mane hair of a particularly courageous unicorn, very good with defensive spells." Ollivander whispered reverently as Neville continued to swish it around in happiness, shooting off little red sparks.

Harry jumped onto his shoulder to get a closer look at the wand held in Neville's other hand.

"Now Mr. Longbottom, that will be seven galleons please." Ollivander asked heading over to his till.

Harry, curious to see what happened if he touched it with Neville's other hand, felt a slight spark when the fingers of Neville's left hand touched the wooden shaft. Then Neville was jerking the hand holding it back as a wand box from another shelf zoomed out into Neville's left hand, dust falling from the top of the box.

Mr. Ollivander's eyebrows rose, "How very peculiar…"

Neville opened the box revealing the wand inside as Harry took control, grabbed the wand a bit clumsily and raised it upwards. A wind brushed by Neville causing his hair to stand on end from the power flowing through the wand. Harry flourished it, gold and silver sparks spewed out onto the floor. If Harry focused he found, flourishing it once more, he could cause it to shoot out Christmas colors as well.

Ollivander's eyes darted between the wand in Neville's right hand and the one contained in his left.

"What a conundrum you represent Mr. Longbottom. Two wands have chosen you. I have never seen this happen in all my years of crafting wands. I would have to check the annals to see if it was chronicled in past times." Ollivander stated with pursed lips and a faraway look in his already out there eyes.

Neville took both wands and stashed them in a pocket. They really _really_ had to go now.

He pulled out his bag full of galleons and winced looking inside. Buying those extra books had left him with enough to buy a wand and a half.

Watching the round faced boy knowingly, Ollivander added in, "Of course, since you were chosen by two wands, it must mean that there is no perfect singular wand for you in my shop. I will only charge you for one as long as you agree to return here in a few years for study. You are a rarity Mr. Longbottom, and your wand choices are quite…interesting."

Letting out a breath and nodding, Neville tipped the bag and counted out seven galleons.

"In one hand you hold a wand innately meant for a person of pure heart. In another you hold the wand destined to a wizard who would do great things, and powerful they could be, as its brother had."

Flicking his gaze to the clock and seeing that he had about twenty-five minutes left, he burst in when the wand maker took a breath, "I'm really very sorry Sir, but the train leaves at one and I don't want to be late!"

Neville pushed the rest of his money at the wand maker in guilt for not being able to hear the rest of his story. He threw open the door and proceeded to dash down the street with Harry clutching his arm for dear life once more.

_'I seem to be running quite often now days!'_

_._

Ollivander chuckled as he watched the boy scuttle down the street. He had had quite a surprising afternoon. Now to find that information…

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Neville held onto Harry as he rolled out of the floo and into the manor. Covered in ashes, he jogged up the steps to his room encountering Great Aunt Enid at his door.

"Open up sonny, we have to make the boat!" Great Aunt Enid shouted at the door.

"One sec, Aunt Enid!" He said gently moving her out of the way.

Opening the door he ran in and started throwing whatever clothes he could find into the trunk already filled with his school supplies.

Harry jumped down and watched Neville, eyes following the boy about the room. Neville had his trunk so full he had taken to sitting on it in order to strap it closed.

"Grehaaa!" Neville shrieked as he was thrown into the bed after the trunk lid flung him into the air.

"What's that boy? You've got a Graphorn in there? Run for cover! RUN for cover!" A voice shouted from the otherside of the door.

"Aunty Enid! 'M fine! I'll meet you at the fireplace!" Neville grunted trying to close the trunk once more, with considerably less clothes in it this time.

Grabbing the trunk in one hand with some clothes still sticking out, Neville headed back out the door took his Aunts hand and made his way down to the floo. She hadn't gotten very far down the hall. Harry jumped on the trunk as Neville tossed the floo powder into the fire and called out, "Platform nine and three quarters!"

Once on the platform Neville kissed his Aunt's hand in goodbye as she tittered and pointed to the crimson train.

"Merlin! It's already moving! Harry, jump up!"

The train was just starting to leave, so Neville booked it for the last time, he hoped, for the day and made it onto the last car with his trunk landing onto the steps.

Neville released the cat to catch his breath and Harry ventured about in the train aisle. Taking this chance to look around, Neville found the first compartment he looked into containing one red haired boy that appeared to be around the same age playing with a rat. Knocking once he entered when the person within nodded in answer pulling his trunk in he shut the door.

Harry meanwhile had explored farther down the train's inner hallway, missing Neville entering the compartment.

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Harry found the fact that he was riding on a train, to what Neville had assured him was a magical castle, to be bloody brilliant. He hoped Neville had been able to pack enough clothes. Looking back on it, it would have been better if he had packed the night before.

Harry sat in the empty hallway of the train and washed a black furred paw. He knew Neville had entered a compartment, but with all the doors shut, he wasn't sure which one. The windows were much too high for a cat of any size short of a tiger to peer into.

He would have to find Neville the old fashioned way. His mouth opened in a small cat like grin; he was okay with that as it would allow him to gather some information that could be useful to them both.

Harry had noticed throughout his time as a cat that he was often ignored during serious conversations. And Harry had the curiosity of a cat. He had realized long ago that information was valuable, from the time when he had been in classes with Dudley. He had kept his grades just good enough to be ignored by Dudley, unless it was a test, but high enough that the teacher's would not call his home for bad grades.

Finding himself in a cat's body had only added to his need of collecting information that would be useful for his continued survival in a world filled with people and magic.

He felt like a spy or secret agent; with his cat like ability to blend into the background, unless there were small children or women around.

He ducked and dodged down the aisle as a small group of preteen girls attempted to catch him.

Learning that he had been a present for Neville because he showed magic rather than for his birthday, which had been the day after, ruffled Harry the wrong way. He was quite annoyed at Neville's older relatives and the way they treated him. At least with the Dursleys Harry knew that he was unliked, just not how much. Harry was a bit disturbed by the idea that Neville's relatives did like him, but still measured him vocally against what he could never be.

Harry could tell that it was hard for Neville whenever his relatives expected too much of him, as they often forgot that he was only a kid. Because of this he felt quite close to Neville, like a brother in fact. He felt closer to Neville than he had ever felt for any of the Dursleys.

Neville had gotten upset with Harry part way through August when he had discovered Harry hiding some of his uncle's pendants around the older man's bedroom. Harry had felt justified in doing it, the man kept belittling his new friend. But Neville still found it to be wrong, he still believed in his family seeing him for himself one day.

Harry just hoped that wouldn't come to bite him.

When Harry had died, he had given up on his family ever coming to rescue or help him. The Dursleys had treated him as an even bigger curse in their lives after his body had fallen down the stairs. To him, family just seemed overrated now; and to protect Neville from ending up the same way he did, Harry would do his best to be Neville's friend if the situation came about where he could not get out of his father's shadow. Harry himself had felt his belief in the goodness of the world change when his aunt had never wanted to see him again. He knew he seemed a bit darker as well. He no longer bothered to be a knight, as he had used to envision himself on the playground. He had a new role to play, and he found it to be a little more fun.

He hummed the theme to the pink panther as best he could in his cat body, as he slinked through the doorway and into the next car. This one was filled with more people. He growled when a red headed boy stepped on the end of his tail.

"Careful brother, you've stepped on the tail of an angry little black tornado!" A duplicate of the first shouted humorously.

Harry attempted to claw a leg in revenge for his tail as he stalked past them.

"Quite the broody little beast! Don't bother with it brother dear, as we are out on"

"A miraculous adventure to take"

"perfect Percy's most treasured"

"and shiny badge!"

The two sang out while loping into a compartment, probably to make plans for this Percy fellow. Too bad he hadn't known anyone like them when he had still been human. It would have been a riot to show them to the Dursleys.

_Focus._ He needed more information about the world he had been thrust into. Daydreams could come later.

_'Particularity information I could get from the younger Malfoy._' Harry thought as he spied a white blond mini version of the adult that had spoken to Neville a month ago. Neville had said the boy's name was Draco, and that he happened to be a jerk. '_No surprises there with the father figure the poor kid had.' _He was probably on the other end of the spectrum, like Dudley.

Darting down the hallway, he slipped into the compartment the boy had entered just as Draco closed the door.

Quickly leaping on top of the luggage found in the compartment and slightly blending in with the black robe placed next to it, Harry listened in to the boy as he talked with the person already in the compartment.

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"My Father is one of the richest men in the wizarding community, and he has the ear of the ministry. Your family is pureblooded is it not? I heard Father say that your family would be a good one to ally with mine. Purebloods should stick together right?" Draco stated proudly holding out his hand.

Harry's bright green eyes darted to the darker haired boy's face that was eyeing the hand in front of him with distaste.

"I don't want to be friends with you at all! I remember you, Draco. During my birthday party last year, you laughed when I spilt grape juice on my shirt! Your father is someone my Daddy says belonged to You-Know-Who!"

Draco's hand curled into a fist and came to rest at his side. The compartment door opened once more and a boy dressed in familiar clothing, jeans and a t-shirt bearing a muggle collage with brown curly hair eyed the two already in the compartment.

"Hey Ernie, who's this?" The new boy questioned.

"No one you want to know Justin. Get your luggage, let's find another car. _He_ doesn't like muggleborns." Ernie stated pulling his trunk down and pushing Justin back into the aisle, who had been standing in the doorway with his trunk out, snapping the door shut behind them.

Draco's face turned red, as he kicked at the door and shouted angrily, "I didn't want to be your friend anyway!"

Harry feeling bad for the snubbed boy, who didn't seem to know how to make friends, jumped down and rubbed his head on the boy's black trouser leg.

_'Idiot, you don't make friends that way.' _He had seen Dudley once try something similar. Obviously this one didn't get out much or wasn't allowed to play with other children on playgrounds. Dudley's gang of bullies prevented him from needing to try to make real friends.

Absently, the boy reached down and rubbed the fur between Harry's shoulders.

"Great, looks like I made friends with a cat. Won't Father be proud." Draco said sarcastically, while smiling a bit when Harry purred back his agreement._ '__Who wouldn't be proud?'_ Harry felt he was quite a good specimen for whatever species of cat he happened to be.

"Who do you belong to anyway?" Draco asked plucking the cat off the floor, and depositing it in his lap.

"Doesn't matter anyway I guess," the boy said to the air giving up on checking the collar that only had his cat name, " As soon as those lumps find me we'll probably head off to check what competition I'll have ruling our year. '_Oo! You really are a magical Dudley!'_

Draco was quite good at giving scratches, Harry realized as his presence distracted the boy from the event that had occurred minutes ago.

"Well of course a cat would want to be my friend, trying to bargain use for my social connections?" The boy jokingly questioned the cat, who decided to be truthful.

"Meow." _'Yes I want to know all about your family, your Da seems like a threat to my future existence.'_

"I take it that was a yes then?"

Draco played along wangling one of his fingers that Harry batted at.

"Don't let people know your true, aim! They may take more from you than you wish to bargain with!" He finished up keeping his wiggling fingers just out of Harry's reach.

Keeping his pride, Harry started cleaning one of his back paws, stretching it out in front of him and nibbling at the claw sheaths.

_'Hmm. I wonder if I can manipulate you into being a nice person. I never was able to try with Dudley.'_

Draco, bored of wiggling his fingers, brought his hand down, and Harry pounced on it, being sure to keep his claws in.

"Nicely done, just like that! Father said that's what he does to get what he wants from the minister." Draco exclaimed causing Harry to purr loudly as Draco rubbed his ears.

"If you were a person I bet you'd be in Slytherin!" Draco snickered as the door opened.

"Neville! Malfoy has your cat! Give it up Malfoy, before you hurt it!" A red head burst in followed by a girl with extremely curly hair and then Neville, the only one he was familiar with.

Perching on Draco's lap he gave a chirping _'hello'_ that Neville would recognize as a sign that Harry was alright.

Neville's shoulders relaxed just a bit at the sound and Harry's slight nod, before both were dragged back into the conversation that was happening around them.

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"Take that back, Malfoy! My family's not blood traitors!"

"So you admit you are poor then?"

Ron's ears reddened as he didn't deny the claim.

"It doesn't matter. Neville was just looking for his lost cat. We found it so we can go, now." Hermione stated wrinkling her nose while contemplating the rude boy that they found in the compartment.

"What family are you from? You're probably a mudblood! I wouldn't be surprised, hanging about with a blood traitor like Weasley with a family to large for their house, and a squib!" Draco Malfoy scowled at the three.

"How dare you call somebody that name! If I knew any spells, I'd have cursed your ears off!" The Weasley boy screamed in the blonde's face.

Harry felt Draco clutch him to his body before releasing him. Harry jumped down and sat before Neville meowing plaintively, hoping than Neville would play negotiator between the two arguing groups.

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Neville decided to diffuse the situation before Ron escalated the verbal fight into a physical one.

_'And of course Harry would decide to make friends with what had to be one of the most controversial people on the train.'_

He had been worried when Harry hadn't joined him in his compartment or scratched at the door. Afraid that Harry had gotten lost, he enlisted the help of the other person in the compartment, one Ronald Weasley.

Ron didn't really like cats. Understandable as he had a pet rat that looked like it was one step away from dying. It was nice of him to decide to help Neville find H-Sable. '_It's Sable. Have to remember its Sable.'_

Leaving the compartment to go search, they had encountered Hermione Granger, to which Neville had apologized for his uncle words. She smiled and asked what they were doing, and on hearing Neville's pet was lost, helped them search each compartment starting at the back of the train.

Finding him in the younger Malfoy's compartment had been startling, but Harry probably knew what he was doing.

Probably.

Breaking in, Neville nodded his head in Draco's direction and in his best pureblood voice while copying his uncle's stance, "I thank you for watching my familiar, he likes to wander. While he may get lost often, he seems to a good judge of character."

Ron and Hermione looked disgusted.

_'Oops.'_ He didn't mean to make it seem like he supported Malfoy's views. His Uncle Algie shared some of the same and so they were easy to ignore.

Ron rammed his shoulder into Neville's side attempting to leave the compartment, causing the books that Neville had bought earlier in the day to drop into the outer hallway from under his jacket. He had forgotten to place them in his trunk.

Hermione bent down and helped him collect the books.

Holding out a few for him to re-pocket, she paused, reading the title of the black leather book in her hands.

Just his luck, she was looking at the wraith book.

He was really lucky she was a muggleborn. If she had any notion to the subjects that were rejected by polite society, she could easily put him in a spot of trouble.

Handing it to him hesitantly, she looked at him once, and then took off down the corridor.

Returning back into the compartment, Draco looked him over suspiciously then nodded.

"Your wandering familiar had best stay with you, the stupid cat might get lost in the castle. Draco Malfoy, by the way. I don't believe we've met in person." Draco stated extending his hand for a handshake.

Neville grasped it in his own with little urging from Harry, it was a proper way of greeting others who are near the same age after all.

"Neville Longbottom. Pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry but I must duck out, I need to go see to my luggage. Come along Sable." Neville replied shaking the other boys hand firmly; his uncle had gone over greetings a multitude of times after his mess up in Diagon Alley.

Brave boys didn't give weak handshakes after all.

Bowing out, he exited the compartment and waited for Harry to exit.

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Harry watched the blond boy and gave a small meow, in what he hoped sounded like a goodbye.

Draco looked down at the cat, "well go on. If you find me _that_ fascinating, I'm sure you'll find me in the castle. Now shoo, I heard _Harry Potter_ was to be in my year!"

Harry sneezed in an attempt to snicker. Darting forward, he rubbed his head on Malfoy's leg and left the compartment.

Oh yes, he would find Malfoy later.

Neville sighed, "Well that was foul, and I think Ron thinks I've now become scum."

Heading back towards the end of the train to where his luggage was in Ron's compartment, he readied himself for damage control.

Harry shook himself out then strode down as well keeping up with Neville's pace.

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Hiya! I'm looking forward to writing chapter 5, hooray for finally being at Hogwarts! This one ended up having a lot of Neville, which is just as well because the next chapters will probably feature more of Harry.

I've already answered it in an email, but if anyone was curious, they will not be telling everyone they meet that the cat is Harry Potter. In fact, the next main character (not including a couple exceptions like Voldemort possibly) won't find out till partway through second year. One of those exceptions will show up next chapter, but it wouldn't be hard to guess who it is.


	5. Sorted

Disclaimer: Owned by Rowling, not by me.

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**The First Step is Fatal**

Chapter 5: _Sorted_

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As the Hogwarts Express docked into Hogsmeade station, Neville hoisted Harry back up to his shoulder. Teens of all ages and sizes poured out of the train. Neville saw a couple of flashes of red hair; he assumed that they must have been Ron's siblings. He thought he saw Ron and Hermione as well, heading over to the giant of a man bellowing for first years.

He hadn't gone back to the compartment that he had started out in with Ron. Neville had assumed Ron was still angry, and like Uncle Algie, he figured it would be better to wait until the boy had cooled down a bit.

"Oi! You don't need to take your pet, leave it on the train; it will be placed in your dorm after sorting." An older student informed Neville as he stepped down off the train with Harry in his arms.

"No…Sable gets distressed and lost in new places, its better if he stays with me," Neville to the teen as he held Harry tighter.

The older student shrugged and followed the flow of the returning students.

"Three to a boat!" The massive man bellowed searching the surrounding faces for who knew what. He probably was a giant as far as Neville knew. He'd be sure not to be in the same boat.

Neville tended to sink rather easily, and Harry seemed to dislike water deeper than a meter.

He and Harry ended up being in a boat with a girl named Susan Bones; he had met her once. An Irish boy going by the name of Seamus Finnigan jumped into the skiff before it magically disconnected from the dock.

"Me Dad's a muggle and me mam's a witch, was a surprise for him!" Seamus laughed as he told his story to the other soon-to-be students. The three of them experienced nervousness and anticipation for the upcoming school year as the boats left the dock and glided across the darkened surface of the lake.

"How long did she wait to tell him?" Susan Bones absently asked as she dipped a hand in the black waters of the lake, her back in perfect posture. Gran often nagged him about sitting the same way, warning him that he would develop a hunched back if he kept slouching.

Seamus scratched his head as he grasped the edge of the boat, "I'm not too sure– but he caught her casting magic. They separated for a while when I was younger."

"Then it's not very funny is it?" The pale girl declared.

Susan's plait of dark auburn hair whipped slightly as she turned her head away and rested it aloofly on her propped up arm.

Neville wondered if she was a bit afraid of being away from her aunt. Like him, she was raised by relative;, most of her family had been targeted and killed in the First War.

"_Shhessh_," Seamus breathed out, rolling his eyes at Neville, "No need to be so cynical and harsh, they got back together eventually."

Seamus raised a hand to his chin and rubbed it, saying slyly, "Ma said it was the most romantic thing she had ever seen, him attempting to do '_Magic_' with cards, filching wallets and fanny packs from tourists. His usual gig was to play a fiddle."

"Oh?" Neville asked as the small boat gently rocked after the sound of a thump - something had hit the hull underneath the bench situated in the middle of the three-person skiff.

"Yea', she took 'im back right quick when he said he didn't want her help getting money. Da didn't think it would be very sporting." Seamus finished squeezing a rubber ball in his hand, that he had pulled from his pocket; eyes darting to the water reflecting lights from the far off castle and numbers of small boats.

From what Neville could see, Susan's lips twisted a bit, as though she had bit into a lemon. Not surprising, really, Susan had a hard time with certain personalities, and Seamus seemed quirky enough to fit in one of those. Seamus was speaking about criminal activities as well. Susan was raised by her aunt who Neville had only met a few times, but could easily see that Susan emulated most of the characteristics that he remembered, just without the grey hair and monocle. She would probably be a swell auror when she finished school.

Harry seemed to be leaning against Neville's leg, in the middle of the boat as possible, keeping away from the boat sides.

Neville decided to ask, "What's wrong Sable, don't like being out in a boat?"

Harry's eyes glowed in the light of the lantern hanging from the front of the boat. He pressed harder into Neville's leg, in what Neville took as an affirmative.

"Protocol was that we were to leave all our pets and luggage on the train. Did they not inform you?" Susan questioned.

"I heard, but I wanted him with me."

She eyed him the way a hawk eyes an insignificant bug before she resumed looking out across the lake. They were getting closer to the castle. Thank Merlin.

"As long as he doesn't fall in he won't be bait for the giant squid! That would be the bloody worst way to start school." Seamus laughed nervously, leaning a bit towards the middle of the boat. Susan grimaced and moved a bit closer to Neville as well.

Neville found himself tightly wedged between them, not that it mattered. He chose the middle for a reason. To stay dry.

If the giant squid was as big as Uncle Algie said it was, it could easily swallow their boat whole.

As the boat magically rowed itself along with the first year boat caravan, he could see that others had overheard their conversation and were as close to the middle as well.

Susan shivered a bit, and Neville was unable to tell if it was because of the chilly breeze brushing against their boat or if it was the thought of being consumed by a tentacled monster. Seamus must have noticed, because he stood up causing their little magical row boat to unbalance a bit and wobble.

"Here," the boy stated, pulling off his outer robe and wiggling his eyebrows, "I don't need it, I'm used to the cold."

Susan wrinkled her nose, "I don't need it either, I'll be fine, thank you."

Seamus eyed her huddled form, and shrugged, "Fine suit y'self."

Tossing his ball once in the air and catching it again, he looked at it and raised his eyebrow in thought.

"BOY! Sit down we don' want yer' to fall over in'ter the water!" A loud booming voice could be heard from farther behind their boat.

The three students turned their heads to the last boat at the back of the pack. It was a bit larger than the others and the giant man who separated the first years from the other students waved his lantern aloft and pointed a large hand at Seamus.

"Oops." Seamus said sitting down hurriedly causing the boat to slosh.

Harry jumped into Neville's lap and chattered. Neville clutched at him tightly, knuckles turning a bit white. They had to be somewhere near the middle of the lake. If they were to be swallowed up, this would be the time it would happen.

After Uncle Algie had pushed him in the water and almost drowned him when he was younger, Neville found himself disliking deep bodies of water. He wished the boat would get to the castle faster. Harry purred in his lap. Neville looked down to see bright eyes reflecting the light from the lantern at the front of the boat.

"Thanks," Neville whispered rubbing Harry's ears.

Seamus tossed his ball into the air a couple of times before he stood quickly and flung it out into the darkness where it struck the water with a distinct '_thwack–plunk'_.

'_RRERREEEERRRWWWWW!' _echoed across the lake.

Waves splashed harshly against the boats as frightened screams could be heard up and down the line of skiffs.

"Don't worry! The Giant Squid's just actin' o bit playful, nothin' ter worry about!" A deep voice called from the back of the boats. The giant man was not saying much that assuaged the fears of the soon to be students. Neville looked to the side and farther ahead where three girls in a boat were holding tightly to each other.

"You dunce! Why would you go and do a thing like that?" Susan whispered harshly, reaching across Neville and poking Seamus hard in the shoulder.

"Shh! I just wanted to see what would happen. No other reason really." Seamus retorted while shrugging.

"You're an idiot," Susan slowly spoke out and then quickly jabbed him in the shoulder once more.

"_Ow_! No need for violence, Duckie," Seamus stated loudly.

Susan snorted.

Splashes could be heard farther out in the lake. Neville was starting to relax, they were just about to reach a cave in the cliff side; he assumed they would be getting off soon.

Just as they reached the cave entrance with the docks in sight, there was a _'sploosh'_ as Seamus' ball came tearing out of the water, and bounced against the back of the boy's head.

"Oww! What the– _Why do I keep getting hit on today_?" He shouted with a broad grin, rubbing the back of his head with one hand while waving the other one around comically. Neville wondered if he often made everything a joke.

"Hey! I didn't hit on you! You're just annoying; stop acting stupid! Tonight is important!" The only girl in their boat scowled, grinding her teeth.

Seamus just grinned lopsidedly, and turned back toward the lake where other boats were behind them.

He cupped his hands and shouted, "THANKS, FOR MY BALL BACK!"

A thin conical shape rose out of the water and undulated wildly, in a move reminiscent of a wave.

The lake was illuminated by the light leeching out the windows on this dark night. It was a beautiful sight that seemed to be obscured with a buzz of nervous energy as the boats filled with soon to be sorted students magically anchored themselves to a pier in the side of the cliff that the idyllic castle stood upon, unrelenting and unconquerable for a millennia.

As their boat docked at the pier, Susan climbed out quickly; with widened eyes, turned to Seamus and announced, "You're insane."

As she swiftly moved down the pier, in a movement Neville found reminiscent to how he was taught to move while in the house, since '_Longbottom boys didn't run indoors with gardening tools'_, Seamus called out, "And you're a DOLL!"

"Why'd you do that?" Neville asked as Seamus helped him out of the boat.

"I dunno, she just seemed too… stiff, ya'know. She looks like she needs to 'ave a bit of fun in her life. Da' always said that's why my mam loves him so much."

Neville mulled this over, "I suppose that makes sense, but be nice; her only family left alive is a judge."

"Ah! I see. Raised by the fuzz, huh?"

"Fuzz?"

"Coppers."

"Oh! Aurors. Yeah her whole family was in the law enforcement division of the ministry. They were hunted down and murdered in the last war," Neville wasn't going to mention that the same had happened to his own parents and the cats' in his arms, as well.

Seamus slapped Neville lightly on his shoulder,"I got it, be nice to the tragic lady figures."

Seamus looked down the pier to the crowd of black robed students moving up the stone cut stairs.

" C'mon Nev! The crowd's leaving. Let's go!"

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It wasn't a surprise to Neville that he lost Seamus amongst the crowd of nervous first years. He wasn't surprised by the screams of the students on his left when the ghosts passed through the walls and started speaking. Even he was given the willies.

As the rest of the students passed rumors on how they were to be sorted, Neville was still a bit stuck on the ghosts inhabiting the castle. He hoped they wouldn't behave the way the manor did. He was really _really_ hoping for some peace without dealing with spirits, or entire cursed buildings, attempting to mess with him.

"Please don't let the walls _bleed _here," Neville wished with closed eyes.

As one, the nearest group of students turned to him and gasped in fright.

"You're the Longbottom heir aren't you?" A high pitched voice from his right asked sympathetically.

Neville turn and came face to face with a thin, black haired girl with brown eyes obscured by thick glasses gazing at him in curiosity.

Oh.

He said that out loud.

It was going to be a hard habit to break; thinking out loud with Harry around had become natural.

"Yes. My name's Neville. Who are you?" Neville asked tilting his head forward in a slight bow.

"An informal greeting form at our first meeting? _Tsk._ That wouldn't fly in most settings you know. I greet thee, Neville Longbottom as heir of the Brocklehursts. I am Mandy," She stated flipping the edge of her robe while bending her knees in a slight curtsy.

"But how did you–"

"Know? It was obvious. Only one family is known to live in a manor haunted by a vengeance wanting, continental dark wizard. Your manor has historical significance to the wizarding wars between us and them. History is my passion; without it there can be _no future_." The girl whispered excitedly, the lenses of her spectacles reflecting light from the floating candles.

Neville was starting to feel a bit uneasy at the focus on him. This was just like those dreams he used to have where his outer robe would disappear revealing his old duck pajamas that he slept in when he was eight. He touched his robes just to be sure it wasn't.

"You mean he was serious! That _actually_ happens?" A boy exclaimed a bit hysterically.

"Of course. As my ancestor was Helga Hufflepuff, I bet she is the one who moves things around at _my_ home. I've only heard of walls bleeding if the home owners are horrible dark wizards." Another boy answered rudely.

Neville was pretty sure his name was Zacharias Smith. The pale blond boy with an upturned nose had gotten slightly lankier than when Neville had last seen him.

He was still as rude as ever.

"My Gran is not a dark witch, the ghost is from – "

"France. A dead dark wizard that used inferi to fight his battles here. His estate was considered spoils of war." Mandy broke in, adjusting her glasses.

Neville would bet his hidden chocolate stash at home that she would soon join the Ravenclaw table.

As it was, he hoped they would enter the hall and get sorted by the hat soon; with so many people watching him in such close proximity, he was beginning to get a bit queasy. As rumors once again passed around about how the sorting would go, Neville was content to stay quiet. His relatives had already let lose the fact that they would be trying on a hat that would chose the House they would go to.

Some of the other students from wizarding families seemed to know as well. Draco began to add fuel to the growing rumor inferno.

"I heard that they cut off your hands at the wrists! If you stay quiet you go to Gryffindor. You go to Hufflepuff if you bawl like a baby!" He guffawed off to the side.

"Oh? And I suppose the Slytherins just don't let it happen then?" Susan's icy voice rose above the crowd.

Malfoy's miniature body guards started chuckling.

"Got it in one, Bones. Slytherin happens to be the best house after all," Draco stated snidely, raising his chin in the air.

Luckily, Professor McGonagall chose to renter the hall before the discussion broke out into a shouting match. At least the talk of which house was better had the effect of preventing the students who didn't know about the hat to stop worrying. Before entering the Great hall, Neville moved over to a shadowy corner and scooped Harry up into his robe.

He wasn't sure if pets would be allowed in, so it would be best not to take chances. Pulling his arms out of his sleeves, he kept his robe draped across his shoulders and held Harry in his arms underneath.

Once Harry was settled, he dashed into the student filled hall just in time to catch the last part of the Sorting Hat's song.

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Harry poked his head out of the v made by Neville's closed robes.

Neville had stopped at the back of the crowd of first years so Harry was able to see the thing singing. Neville hadn't led him astray yet, and on the train Neville informed him it was a hat. He would have like to see it though.

What a weird way for students to be separated.

At Harry's last school, the higher up students were divided by class choices such as music classes or language choice. It seemed odd to him that here students were divided by traits.

The older witch with a lopsided hat unrolled a scroll, cleared her throat and started to call out names for the students to be sorted.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

At this, a blond moved through the crowd of first years to the small stool. She fidgeted as the hat dropped on to her head, before it fell over her eyes and obscured most of her face from view. Her fingers threaded back and forth as the silent hall watched on. The small crowd of first years spread out to ring the sorting area. Everyone wanted to see the outcome.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat called out amidst the cheers originating from a table ringed with students dressed in yellow and black.

Harry watched as Susan Bones was sorted into Hufflepuff as well. He yawned a bit at those who came after; this seemed to follow a well set pattern and he had no idea why the other first years had worried about it so much earlier.

Harry would admit though, that he was quite surprised when, after a minute of wearing the hat, Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor. From what Neville had said, she seemed to be one that would belong in Ravenclaw.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

Finally, it was Neville's turn.

Harry felt Neville jerk in surprise as he unconsciously stumbled forward towards the stool. Neville sat down hard, and Harry felt the boy clutch him tightly in nervousness.

The professor overseeing the sorting placed the hat that sang onto Neville's head.

Harry's mouth tasted funny as a buzzing sound started up in the back of his mind.

…and everything went black.

.

.

"_Well, well! What a little pair you two make, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter," _A deep echoing voice that seemed to originate from everywhere declared.

"Are you going to tell on us?"Harry thought out; voice appearing in the darkness of the Hat's insides.

_"I couldn't even if I wanted to, little wraith. And I wouldn't want to tell this lot now days. Oh, but if you were here at the start, yes…yes! Salazar and Rowena would have quite the time figuring out what to do with the pair of you indeed!"_ The voice answered.

Harry had decided that it was the Sorting Hat.

_"It is unprecedented, but yes the knowledge gained from the two of you would have mended the wounds that tore the founders apart. Or, at least cushioned the blow. They were such good friends in the beginning. Mores the pity."_

"But I thought Salazar Slytherin was evil and wanted the muggleborn to stay away from the school and die?" Neville questioned, amazed at what the Hat had said.

One of his tutors had loved to talk about that tidbit of history. Gran had said that she was annoyed her kind had been disliked at that point in history.

_"Close but not exactly; time has forgotten his reasons just as it vilified him. Set indeed. So Mr. Potter,…you seemed to be a cunning and adaptive person."_

"I suppose but why are you asking?" Harry's bodiless voice questioned suspiciously.

_"I'm a Sorting Hat, it's what I do. Now you seem to like information, yes!...But not enough to be swept off on the desire for research,"_ the Hat mused.

_"Hmm… You show loyalty… but only to one person. I see! You have a desire to help yourself…not to say that you wouldn't help someone, but dying has made you less…impulsive in the face of danger. Yes, I see there is only one clear place for you to go Mr. Potter, and it is Slytherin!"_

"_What!_ I can't be sorted! I'm not even human!" Harry roared, causing Neville to flinch.

Harry's mental voice sounded different than what Neville would have expected.

_"You received a letter. You arrived to Hogwarts. My frame sits upon your metaphysical mind. And you are alive…in a form. No reason why I can't sort you. And before you ask, I will not change your House. Slytherin is what you are, it's in your blood. Why, Salazar would have taken you and made you his own prized pupil," _the Hat spoke with solid determination.

_"Little Wraith, do not take it the wrong way. I cannot speak of what I see in the minds of others as it is against my construct; but he was a human a long ago, and not nearly so black hearted as he is portrayed now days. Mr. Potter, you have been given the unique chance of seeing the castle through different eyes than just that of a normal student. As a Slytherin I expect you to make the best of it."_

"Do you know why I'm still here? If I died?" Harry asked, not willing to argue about a House, when he still had the form of a cat.

_"I cannot say exactly, Little Wraith. I can only look into your mind, not the future. But I feel it you know, it seeps in the magic. The darkness is not gone yet. The world still has need of you Mr. Potter," _the Sorting Hat paused here before abruptly moving his focus to the other mind within itself.

_"Now I must Sort Mr. Longbottom! If we take too much more time they may wonder just how many minds are dwelling with in poor boy!"_

"Put me in Slytherin please. Harry will need help," Neville bravely declared.

_"…Why you just said that, Mr. Longbottom, is the reason I cannot."_

"You won't put me there because I want to help Harry? You just said that he would help people as well!" Neville argued with the voice.

_"You are an extreme loyal and brave person Mr. Longbottom. The loyalty you show Mr. Potter here and that for your family could easily get you into Hufflepuff…no? I see you would rather go with my first choice as well,"_ the Hat wavered before it continued.

_"There are few people in the world who would go to such extreme lengths to help a friend. You exude a passive bravery that leaks into what you do Mr. Longbottom, like a friend I once had long, long ago. Gryffindor will allow it to blossom. The world could use a shake up every now and then; the two of you will be good for the wizarding world. It's gotten a bit stagnant." _The hat stated pensively voiced echoed to far away distances in the darkness surrounding them, giving Harry the feeling that it really was able to think of the past events.

_"Besides, there is nothing that can stop a Slytherin and Gryffindor when they work together!"_ It spoke, perking up a bit.

_"One last thing before you head off to the Gryffindor table with your friend, Little Wraith. After dinner, at the very least you must go to Slytherin House, they do things a bit differently there compared to the others. And, as much as you deny it now, deep down you knew you would visit them. I can see the thought in your mind, it was a given. The door will be more accepting of you if you actually belong to that House. You are registered in the Hogwarts compendium as a Slytherin, though your name has not appeared next to it; it will be safer for you this way." _

Harry mentally frowned as the Hat remarked on what he had indeed planned on doing. He wasn't so sure he liked the fact that there were objects in the Wizarding world that could read a person's mind.

_"Chin up, Little Wraith. I have no doubt that the two of you will find a way_ _to get what you desire most,"_ the Hat paused, _"Good luck then boys."_

_" GRYFFINDOR!"_

.

.

The hat was pulled off Neville's head as a roar of noise rose from one side of the hall. Harry found himself being pulled up by Neville from where he had fallen down the boy's robes and onto his lap. His head hurt a bit, and there still seemed to be a buzzing in his mind, but it was rapidly fading.

Shaking himself out he crawled up Neville to perch on his shoulder; it didn't seem like the teacher's would care at this point.

Neville's face was pale and his shoulders were shaking. It was a good thing that the teacher removed the hat herself; in this state Neville could have easily walked off with it. As it was, she still had to give him a nudge in the right direction.

Stumbling slightly, Neville gained his bearings and jogged over to the Gryffindor table, the epicenter of the clapping. Taking an empty spot at the table next to Seamus, he found himself looking across the table at Hermione, who was watching him speculatively.

"I don't understand you. I thought for sure you would be a Slytherin."

"Wot! Our Nevie, a _Slyth_? Not this kid, a Slytherin would have pushed me in the lake," Seamus spoke up jokingly.

Harry watched as she stared at the other boy incredulously before rolling her eyes.

"Oh, you're _that_ kid. I should have known only a Gryffindor would play catch with the giant squid inhabiting the lake. You're lucky it didn't eat you."

"Malfoy, Draco!"

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

Hermione focused back on Neville after watching the pale blond boy swagger to his new house.

"You seemed to be friends, so why didn't you get placed with him? The two larger boys that were following him about earlier did."

Neville shrugged, causing Harry to rock forward a bit.

"He's not my friend. There's just certain ways one pureblood is supposed to respond to another, specific manners and such. I'm sorry about that – I didn't mean to make it seem like I thought he was in the right." Neville apologized, clapping politely as a girl, _P-something _– Harry hadn't been paying attention, joined the Gryffindor table.

"Oh. Okay I unders–," she had begun before the professor calling out names read out his own.

"Potter, Harry!"

The students ceased their murmurings throughout the hall as everyone waited with baited breath for the boy called to step forth.

"Potter…Harry!"

Everyone was focused on the students left to be sorted. The professors at the faculty table were scrutinizing the faces of the boys left, in an attempt to pick out the wayward student.

"MR. POTTER, if you don't get up here right this minute, I can guarantee an immediate deduction of points to which ever House you are placed in!" She scowled looking from face to face of the last unsorted students.

"Excuse me Professor? I don't think he's here," One of the few boys left spoke up.

Aghast, the Professor looked back and forth between the boys left unsorted and then focused on the faces of the girls as well.

Harry snickered from his perch on Neville's shoulder as the boy shushed him.

"Minerva, I think you will have to skip him for now, and move on to the students left." The elderly man spoke, standing at the middle of the table.

"That's Dumbledore," Neville whispered in awe to the cat on his shoulder.

Harry nodded his understanding.

"Smith, Zacharias!"

The students paid little attention to the rest of the sorting, as large groups up and down the tables questioned the implications surrounding the Boy-Who-Didn't-Show-Up. Zacharias Smith pouted when the Hufflepuff table was too involved with the missing boy to clap loudly at his placement.

He proudly stated loudly for the entire hall to hear, "At least I'm a descendent of Helga HUFFLEPUFF! I wouldn't cry at _all_ if my hands were cut off!"

The Transfiguration professor looked up from her list of names quizzically as the students who heard the boy's exclamation began to laugh. Zacharias blushed scarlet and dashed to Hufflepuff table muttering about how _'it wasn't fair that someone who wasn't even there had more attention_.'

Malfoy, surrounded by the Slytherin first years called out, "well we won't know for sure unless you give it a try! Gullible must be your middle name!"

Quiet snickers spread out around the hall gaining volume.

"Ten points from Slytherin for speaking out of turn," McGonagall stated, scowling at the two boys who had interrupted the sorting.

She seemed to have forgotten the rule that Houses could not start with negative points.

Harry chortled, _'I wonder if points would be taken from me as well if I went up there now. Best not risk it.'_

"Neville, your cat is very weird," Hermione stated in a monotone voice as Harry laughed in a number of hoarse coughs.

"Is it bringing up a hairball?"

"No, he just finds mischief funny."

"Keep it away from my brothers then, you might never get it back," Ron gruffly declared, sitting down at the table as his brothers cheered.

Looking pointedly at Neville, the red haired boy spoke seriously, "I don't know why you're a Gryffindor, but I'm willing to give you a second chance, agree?"

Ron held out his hand across the table. From Harry's height on Neville's shoulder, he could tell that the boy was a bit flustered. As Neville reached across the table to the boy who sat next to Hermione, Harry jumped down to the table as the headmaster finished a short speech.

"_Gueeh!"_ Neville squirmed as half his arm was suddenly resting in a pile of mashed potatoes. Ron's secondhand robes hadn't turned out any better; covered in gravy as his sleeves were.

The Gryffindor first years laughed in camaraderie at what had happened as Harry lapped up cream from a small basin used as a topping for dessert.

.

.

Harry felt like he was one of Peter pan's lost boys as he followed the line of Slytherin students down stairs and corridors into the dungeons. If only the other first years had animal features as well.

It would be a jolly time.

Of course that was totally ignoring the wet odors in the literal bowels of the castle. The dungeons must be under or very near the lake. The rock walls in this area had a damp, musty smell. Not horrible per se, but quite noticeable to his feline nose.

Wrinkling his nose, he breathed out heavily, as he padded along behind the group of students.

_'Guess I have to get used to the wet locker smell.'_

"Hurry up now ickle firsties. This is the entrance to Slytherin, remember it. Asking anyone outside of our house would be like asking a toad; even if they understand what you want, they won't have any clue." The Slytherin Prefect stated as he stopped at a dead end in the maze like tunnels of the dungeon.

"You can tell we have gone the right way by the slight scale patterning in the walls," the prefect explained, pointing to the faint snake patterning with the scale points pointed to the dead end of the corridor.

"Those will always point to the dorm; get used to it; this hallway moves every few weeks. You may also notice other marks as well; it's up to you to bargain for that information or to explore it yourselves. The password to the common room is currently '_Sanguisorba_'. All new passwords will be posted on the bulletin inside. If you forget it, you'll have to do whatever you can to convince the door guardian to let you in."

With that the prefect rapped on the wall of the dead end with his wand, causing the stones to shift.

Like the rippled epicenter of an object falling in still water, the shifting stones soon encompassed the entire wall, forming a twisting serpentine figure complete with glowing green eyes. The snake's body jutted outward from the surface of the wall. It seemed to be comprised of smooth black and gray marble.

_"Ssssoooo it iss learning time onccce more. Isss there one among you?"_ The stone snake's ghostly words echoed off the corridor walls. Harry was surprised when no one answered it, as the wall was asking a question. He wondered how smart it was; he was unused to walls and appliances talking.

_'If I ever go back to the muggle world, they'd probably call me a loony if I talked to half the things there that end up talking here.'_

"Whaat are you here for, humansss?" The snake boomed out less majestically than the voice it had spoken in before.

"We seek entry to the Slytherin House, Great One. '_Sanguisorba_'!" the prefect smirked, perfectly at ease with the situation of talking to snakes made up of wall and rocks.

"Then enterrr…,"The entrance guardian spoke, while rippling and remerging with the wall, curling around a black marble door that emerged in the middle from the surrounding stone.

The Prefect opened the door beckoning to the first years, "Don't worry about the guardian; we only need to feed it Gryffies once a month."

He smirked at new students before entering through the shadowed doorway.

"…was he joking?" A skinny girl with long dark brown hair and bluish-grey eyes asked the others while she looked from the open door and other first years.

"_Che_. Of course he was, Tracy," A dark skinned boy scowled at the first speaker.

Nobody moved.

Harry rolled his eyes at his fellow housemates. He hoped they were just being paranoid, and not actually frightened by a _door_. So far, snakes had been generally neutral or helpful to Harry. He was rather curious to see the Slytherin common room.

'_Besides,_' Harrry thought as he went over to Draco, _'this is a school –not a jungle, the snake is probably safe.'_

Head-butting Draco in the back of the leg as hard as possible, he caused the boy to stumble forward.

"Hey! Who did that?" Draco shouted twisting about and noticing no one behind him.

_'Sigh'_

"Murrr," Harry vocalized at Draco's dragon skin boot.

"Oh, it's you again. Got lost have you? Or decided to be a Slytherin's pet?" Draco questioned slyly, while attempting to pick Harry up.

Harry dodged and darted through the doorway. He paused on the threshold, looked back and rolled his eyes.

One of Draco's oafish bodyguards grunted out, "I'm not a'fraid! A dumb cat s'not better than me!"

And with that, the rest of the Slytherin first years made their way through the marble doorway into the rooms of Slytherin House.

.

.

"So, you finally decided to join us, not bad, took less time than last year," the prefect spoke up amusingly from one of the couches near a burning fireplace, as he checked the time projected above his wand. In the darkness of the room with only the fireplace lighting it the common room resembled a dark cave.

"Now we can move on to the fun things," as he said this, the dark room filled with soft green and blue rippling lights. The stone floor was tiled in gray marble with glittery black veins. A series of black leather couches surrounded the single large intimidating black stone fireplace. Pictures of aristocratic people and magical battles moved amongst their frames on the walls as they watched the new Slytherin students. High backed chairs were placed at tables made entirely of black marble. One half of the common room wall was taken up by a large black space void with wavering bioluminescent lights. The younger children stared at it in wonder.

"Oh, yes. The porthole wall is ingenious isn't it? Unfortunately it's rather dark out there right now, but sometimes you can see the giant squid and other creatures of the lake swim by."

Harry dodged around the legs of the other students and smushed his face to the clear glass like wall. The vision he had as a cat was leaps and bounds better that it had been as a boy.

He wasn't sure if his spectacles were the wrong prescription or if cats were just naturally gifted with sight.

His eyes flicked this way and that, as small fishes, gray in the darkness darted by the magical window. He could see flashes of light in the lower corner; focusing on them the creatures reminded him of small glowing shrimp.

Suddenly, a large worm like thing hit the window, and slid across it, causing the new students to jump back. Large suckers on the end grasped at the other side of the window.

"Ah! The squid is looking mighty hungry, guess no one fell in the lake on the way here? Too bad."

"This one kid stood up and threw something at it." Draco spoke, scowling at the Prefect.

"Typical Gryffindor attics. The hat must've immediately sorted him there."

Some of the students nodded distractedly as they took in the surrounding common room.

_'FWWOOMM!' _

Green flames rose in the fireplace as a large dark figure strode out in a swirl of black robes.

"So these… are the new first years? Go about your business, Mr. Bartleby, but stay nearby." The dark man with lanky black hair stated while leaning against the mantle.

"Yes, sir!" The teen nodded and took off down a hallway.

"I…am Professor Snape, your head of House and Potions Professor. You will find your stay in this house to be different than the favored lives you have lead up till now," He announced, folding his arms behind his back and standing up straight.

He gestured to the couches and the first years attempted to move as gracefully as their head of House when he moved to an armchair.

_'They look like a bunch of chicks following mother duck.'_

Harry snickered, as he followed and jumped into Draco's lap when the boy had sat down.

Draco leaned forward, and started rubbing the fur under Harry's chin.

"You little infiltrator," he whispered, not quietly enough.

"What was that Mr. Malfoy?" Snape questioned raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, Uncle Sev," Draco replied grinning in earnest innocence.

The Professor shook his head slightly and admonished the boy, "You cannot call me that here Draco, but very Slytherin. Very Slytherin, indeed_._ Let us test your house mates. Why did he just acknowledge our personal relationship other than for distracting me from our earlier conversation?"

A pug faced short haired girl attempted to wriggle closer to Draco while she stated, "He established himself as being connected to your authority."

She grabbed one of Draco's hands from scratching Harry's side and clasped it between her own. Draco wrinkled his face and yanked his hand back. He inched away to the side of the couch. Draco hunched forward and folded his arms around Harry burying his hand in his robes, while the girl crossed her arms and pouted.

Harry watched the professor's mouth twitch at the sight.

"Correct. But as a student appears to have _missed the train_," Snape rolled his eyes at this and scowled, "I do not have much time to explain everything that I would like to tonight. So… first, a change of your robes is needed."

He whipped out his wand and flicked it at each student in turn. The inner hoods of their robes turned heather green and Slytherin badges materialized on the left side of their black outer robes.

"The main thing to remember as students of Slytherin, is to present yourselves as united against the rest of the school. It is customary for the other house to vilify us. As it is, I have proposed a little game for each year of my students, a …competition of sorts. Being in Slytherin House introduces one to the realities of life being unfair far earlier on than the coddled students of the other houses. So the proposal is thus," the man started, summoning a goblet and taking a sip.

"To bend the rules without breaking them or being caught. You will badger the other students with cunning until they get caught and lose points. I do not want to see Gryffindor win the house cup this year. To the student among you that succeeds at this best, I will take over ten detentions next year and leave you to do them how you see fit."

He took another sip then cradled the goblet between his hands, "This is the House of cunning and ambition; I expect to see you express these traits in some way, rather than just skulking by on blood status alone. Practicing your skills here will help you succeed in your ambitions when you leave the school."

Snape regarded his new students solemnly as his gaze moved to each face across from him.

"If you ever see a case of bullying against one of our own, you are to either join with the Slytherin or find a teacher. If you must draw your wand, do not do it in plain view; draw it where only your opponent can see it. I do not want points docked from my House. Do you understand me?"

Everyone nodded, while the two boys that Draco had been with earlier smirked and cracked their knuckles.

The fire behind him flared up green and the Headmaster's voice could be heard speaking with another on the other side.

"Severus? We need you now. This cannot wait any longer."

"Yes, headmaster."

Professor Snape stood up looking at his new students.

"Welcome to Slytherin. I shall have Mr. Bartleby explain the rest of the rules. Go to sleep early tonight. I expect you all to be up in common room at seven tomorrow. Do not worry about Prefect Bartleby's penchant to talk about students being eaten. That rarely ever happens here. Goodnight."

With that he summoned Prefect Bartleby from the boy's dorm and turned to the fire.

Harry seeing this as an ample time to make his leave, jumped onto the hem of the man's robe as he walked through the green flames.

.

.

Harry found himself tossed out of the fire place covered in ash, hacking.

_'Urrgh. So much better to be carried through that._'

The school teachers were arguing, apparently about him.

"When the little bugger is found I want 50 points to be detracted from Gryffindor." Snape growled as he moved to the desk where the Headmaster and sorting professor were.

"Severus you cannot possibly have foresight, so you can't know for sure that he would even be in my House. Besides, I bet there is a perfectly good explaination," the Professor McGonagall spoke as the voice of reason.

"Oh, I very much doubt it. He is a _Potter_ after all. If he isn't in your House the only other one possible is Hufflepuff."

Harry was a bit put out that his own head of House didn't even mention Slytherin.

"He could easily be in Ravenclaw, Severus. Or even your own House."

"HA! A Potter _in_ Slytherin! That would only happen if Fawkes revoked his status _as a phoenix_. Ravenclaw is just as bad; Potter- the dunderheaded elder, was completely lacking in the brain department."

"Yes, but Lilly was quite gifted wasn't she?" Professor McGonagall asked Snape with knowing eyes.

Snape gave no answer. His silence spoke volumes.

Harry's ears perked up at the tidbit of information given about his parents. They truly _did_ go to this school. And they had connections to Snape. All the more reason to visit the Slytherin dorms often. The Hat was quite right.

"Regardless. Harry must be found. Minerva, I would like you to patrol the platform. Perhaps he did not make it onto the train. Severus –," the headmaster spoke before the Potions professor broke in.

"I will have no part in searching for the boy, Albus. He is safer in the muggle world anyway, if what you said about his mother's blood sacrifice is correct."

"Albus, I am NOT a scent hound! Why do you think he is there anyways?" McGonagall scowled as she exclaimed unhappily.

Harry couldn't see what the headmaster withdrew from his desk, but it held the attention of the two professors.

"He received his letter _and_ was with someone who was willing to get Harry to the platform. If not, I would've sent Hagrid. I'm sure the boy is all right."

McGonagall sighed, "I suppose I shall spend the next day patrolling the platform for Mr. Potter, then? How do you know that he didn't go home?"

"I will visit number four Privet Drive tomorrow as well," Dumbledore stated, sitting back in his chair.

Harry attempted to rid himself of ash graying his fur. It seemed like the professors were planning on a long conversation.

Licking his fur, some ash particles got in his nose and he sneezed.

"Did you hear that?" Snape questioned.

Harry felt a long hand grab him by the ruff and hoist him to the top of the desk.

Before Harry could even think '_Busted!_' he found himself at wand point, courtesy of his head of House.

"_Animagus Revealio!"_ Snape cast, shooting a blue light at Harry that disappeared after striking him.

Harry felt a slight tingling in his skin as the spell whirled around before it faded.

"Severus, it's a pet that got _lost_. No need to be so paranoid," McGonagall frowned stroking Harry's back.

Deciding to follow Draco's lead Harry turned his great green eyes to the large nosed professor and purred out his most innocent vocalization.

"Mewurrr?"

Snape's eyes narrowed, "A mischief maker if I ever saw one. I have never known Draco to have a feline."

McGonagall snorted, "Compared to _Draco Malfoy_, you believe this cat will cause more mischief?"

"Mabby!" Snape growled out.

"Yessers?" a house elf clothed in a pillowcase questioned as she teleported in.

"Take this …_thing_ back to its owner!"

"Now Severus be nice to the cute kitty," McGonagall smirked while rubbing Harry under the chin, causing him to purr.

Harry coughed in amusement as Professor Snape's mouth twisted in disgust. McGonagall gently handed Harry to Mabby the Elf before she headed to the fireplace.

"I suppose I should start my check tonight. I hope we find Mr. Potter soon. Merlin give me luck. Cancel my classes for tomorrow," McGonagall finished before using the fireplace to floo to the train platform.

"Now Severus, I wanted you here because I don't think I understand your flowery poetry protecting the Sorcerer's sto–"

Mabby apparated from the room before Harry was able to hear how Snape reacted to the word 'flowery' in same sentence as his name.

.

.

"A very strange magic signal, Mr. Kitty," Mabby stated, stroking Harry's black fur.

The elf had moved them to an unknown corridor.

Mabby snapped her fingers, "Ah! Yous must belong to siblings then! In separate houses! Lions and Snakes. …Poor kitty."

Mabby shuddered at that last bit. Harry was sure there was a story behind _that_.

'_Poor beast was probably ripped in two.'_

"Where do you wish to go Mr. Kitty? Gryffindor?"

"Murr!"

"Off we's go!" the elf exclaimed in happiness before she apparated once more.

.

.

Harry found himself in a cozy common room full of warm colors. Reds and yellows abounded in squishy chairs, wall hangings and rugs. It was quite different from Slytherin.

_'What's Neville doing out of his dorm?'_ Harry wondered as he scampered over to the boy sleeping in a beanbag chair.

The room was dark but it still seemed to be before ten; he supposed the older students must be hanging out in the Great Hall getting reacquainted with friends. Harry jumped on Neville's lap and chattered.

"Hm? Ha– Sable! What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with the Slytherins." Neville whispered, his shoulders drooping a bit.

Harry tilted his head in what he hoped Neville would understand.

Neville attempted to smile a bit as his eyes grew watery, "I don't know why I stayed down here …I just hoped that you would come back. I mean, I _know_ you were hitting it off with Malfoy, and I'd completely understand! If you wanted to be friends with him instead, I mean."

Harry took control of Neville's left hand and poked him in the nose with a finger, before rubbing his head on Neville's arm.

Neville gave a shaky laugh before wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeves and sniffing loudly.

"I suppose I should have been in Hufflepuff. Bed then?" Neville questioned as Harry hopped on his shoulder.

When they made it to the dorm, Harry made sure to steal Neville's pillows to let the boy know that he was Harry's _person_. Neville laughed quietly before stealing them back.

.

.

"Hey look Sable, you made the back page!" Neville whispered to Harry, pointing out a small article describing the Potter boy not appearing at the Sorting Ceremony.

"Someone must have owled their parents as soon as the sorting was over!" Neville finished, placing the paper on the table before serving himself breakfast.

Harry jumped down and sat on the table examining the small article.

_'Huh. I can't believe wizards allow information to be printed without knowing if it's rumor or not.'_

The article was about Harry missing the sorting because the headmaster, for some reason, had him off fighting nundus in Tanzania.

_'I don't even know what a nundu is.'_

"Gryffindor students, please come collect your schedule," A red-haired boy garbed in Gryffindor robes with a Prefect badge announced.

"That's Percy, one of Ron's older brothers." Neville garbled out after swallowing his bite of toast.

"Yes, _we_ know that," Hermione spoke from a few feet down the table, eyeing him strangely.

"Ahaha…Sometimes I repeat facts out loud! _Yeah!_ You know, to help me remember them!" Neville grinned guiltily, one hand scratching the back of his head.

Harry rolled his eyes; he wished he could show Neville how to stop looking guilty when he wasn't telling the complete truth, but Harry figured it would probably be a lost cause.

Hermione didn't really buy it either.

Looking a bit wierded out, she replied, "O-okay…"

When she turned away Neville sighed. He followed behind and joined the growing line of yawning Gryffindors waiting to get their class schedule.

_'Probably wishes he didn't look so guilty most of the time,_' Harry thought as he turned back to the paper.

"Oh, no….We have potions first! Transfiguration was cancelled today," Neville groaned when he returned to Harry.

Harry perked up, and chirped happily.

"Oh yes, don't think I don't know why you're happy. My messes won't be nearly as fun in a classroom with other students and an angry teacher!"

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Neville entered the potions lab in the middle of the pack of Gryffindor students. He wasn't sure if he should sit with Ron and Hermione, as they still seemed to find his antics strange. He ended up sitting with Dean across the table from the two.

He grinned weakly.

Sitting at the stone bench, he opened the top of his bag and allowed Harry to climb out and duck under the table.

They had discussed Harry being present in the classrooms; Neville was against it for this class. He was quite afraid of accidently spilling something toxic on the small black feline. His tutor hadn't been able to teach him potions at all.

In fact, the man had called him _'completely incompetent –and to have people stay back ten feet when he was attempting a potion.'_ Neville had to agree; it didn't matter what the potion was supposed to be, it either exploded, solidified, or apparated in a puddle that landed on Gran.

He got grounded each time _that_ happened.

Harry took over his arm as Neville felt the cat lean against his leg. Harry used his arm to pull out a sheet of parchment, quill, and ink.

He haphazardly scrawled across the paper, '_It'l be fine'_. The pen leaped across the page hitting the breaks on the stone lab table.

'_Note: Remind Harry to write when he can actually see what he's doing_.'

Neville rolled up the parchment piece before the other Gryffindors could finish removing their books.

Placing his palms flat on the top of the lab table he ran his hands over the cool stones and grooves, in an attempt to calm down. His fingers encountered grooves in the table that felt as if they had been chiseled.

Moving his hands out of the way, he twisted his head slightly to the side and gulped.

What a wonderful day to start his first ever class.

Inscribed into the table were the words, _'Welcome To HELL!'_

Neville wanted to faint.

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_Fifth chapter complete! So I've decided to portray Susan Bones quite differently. Originally, I had a a long note explaining why which gained in length much like this chapter. Meh._

_Hoped you enjoyed this chapter! The end section was quite fun; I think this is the longest chapter I've written so far. Buah, It's probably riddled with extra commas. _ o_0 - LQ

R/R please!


	6. Scylla

**Disclaimer:** Owning something like this would be too cool for school. As I'm still there, I don't own it.

Thanks for your reviews on last chapter: **Tiamat100, GenoBeast, Broena, TenshiNanashi, Fk306 animelover,** **Lendor, Lilyellowcrayon, Psychocitten, Risi, **Reader, **Ming Xiong, NLaddict, **Review**, Sh777, Jesusfreak100percent, MissPino, **Lisa,** and SensiblyTainted**!

Oops! In my fervor to get the last chapter up before my afternoon, class I forgot to thank the people who reviewed the chapter before last: **Yuiop, NLaddict, Jesusfreak100percent, Tryptophan36, justawriter33, **missme**, The Elusive Shadow, GenoBeast, Greener and Gelasia- kitty!** Thanks again!

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**The First Step is Fatal**

Chapter 6: _Scylla_

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Neville looked up from the scraped words on the desk as Snape burst in. The door smacked into the wall. The professor's robes swelled outward giving the man an appearance of a bat in flight. Neville looked about the room; there was definitive divide between the Gryffindor and Slytherin students. He wondered if it was intuitive to split the room in half like that.

Neville was riveted by the pofessor's creepy speech. Some of the stuff he mentioned wasn't used in polite society. Or at least it wasn't admitted to. The rest of it was under heavy regulation by the ministry.

After he gave his potion monologue, Snape took up the attendance list on his desk with an almost clinical disinterest.

He brusquely began to call out names. Each 'here' received a check. Snape paused when he reached Neville's name.

"Neville Longbottom."

"Here Sir," Neville responded when the professor looked over at him. The professor stabbed the paper.

"I hope we won't be having any accidents today, yes? I'm well acquainted with Mr. Oakden, the children's tutor…he's told me quite a few stories about _you_. But you won't be making the same mistakes here now will you?" the professor questioned looking down his great big nose at Neville. Black eyes pierced Neville as he reflexively gulped. Neville shook his head frantically.

A number of the Slytherins laughed as they smirked at him from their side of the room.

"Perhaps we should test your knowledge. Mr. Longbottom, where would one remove the spark stones from a young dragon?"

Neville quivered. He knew more about plants than animals.

"Nothing? Well, perhaps this is more to your level, what would one use to delouse a kneazel?"

"U-uh…a delousing potion?"

Professor Snape stared at him and curled his lip.

"Incorrect. I see one of our number would do well to read his text. From the faces of the rest of you dunderheads, I would suggest you all do the same thing. Five points from Gryffindor, these were all simple questions," the professor declared as he stalked back to the front of the room.

"Professor! I can answer them," Hermione spoke up before the Potions Master began his lecture as she waved her hand erratically through the air.

"I do not care for people who speak out of turn. A point from Gryffindor. Mr. Malfoy, why don't you inform the simpletons sitting on the other side of the room?"

Draco stood up and smiled innocently. It turned into a smirk when he faced the Gryffindor side of classroom.

"The red spark stones of a dragon can only be removed from the throat of a newly hatched Chinese fireball when the mother is not around. An incision in the throat must be made. The mother would need to be tied down if she was nearby. Two crystals on either side of the inner throat lining rub against each other to produce an aether-auroris flame that can be useful in certain potions. Of course… an easier way to get them would be to slit the beast's throat," Draco Malfoy finished as he sneered at the Gryffindors.

"That's barbaric! My brother wants to go into Dragon handling; he'd never do such a thing! He said that's been outlawed at least a hundred years back!" Ron yelled from his seat.

Hermione gripped him by the arm when he made a move to stand up.

"That will be another point from Gryffindor. Mr. Malfoy, take five for Slytherin."

The battle line was drawn.

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The class continued as the students attempted to brew boil cure potions. Harry grimaced at the panicked noises Neville made. He couldn't tell what happened to be wrong with Neville's potion, but the boy was the only one who seemed to be dancing about the desk as he dodged small pops and droplets that sizzled as they spattered on the floor.

Neville was the master of chaos when it came to potions. All Harry had to do was sit back and watch.

_'Preferably from a perch.'_

Harry could admit that he was a bit of an equal opportunist; he enjoyed mischief and chaos created by just about anyone.

The cat scuttled about under the desk until he was situated outside the splash zone. Harry stayed close enough to help Neville if the situation became dangerous.

He jumped up on to the bench and watched as Neville added his porcupine quills to his boiling solution.

"Neville! Quickly, take it _off_ the flames! The quills react badly to heat!" Hermione shouted as she backed away from the table.

The students around them watched in a stupor as the potion turned a violent green and roiled about, the smoke produced by the potion turned black.

"Ron! Get back!" Hermione panicked as she tugged him away from the table.

A gooey glob of miss-made potion landed in the spot where he had been standing.

_'Time for Harry to save the day,' _the cat chimed out in thought.

He had pushed over Neville's potions before when they gone all pear-shaped.

At least if he bumped it over, the cauldron would spew the potion away from Neville.

Harry darted to the boy who had backed away in terror. He jumped onto Neville's shoulder and took control of the boy's arm. Harry jerked Neville forward when he stretched the boy's left arm out to the lab table.

The boy gulped but complied with Harry's guidance.

Neville dodged the bits of potion slime that shot from the cauldron as he approached the table.

Harry grabbed a corner of Neville's potion text and jabbed the the smoking pot with it.

The cauldron splashed up into the air and spilled away from Neville, who had dived back from the table. The potion particles in the air moved with the currents that cycled about the classroom. It looked like a roving green curtain; it cloyed about the majority of the Gryffindor area. The toxic green potion cloud was prevented from reaching the other ends of the classroom by a luminous shield.

Neville's dodge away from the cauldron had not done him any good. Harry grabbed Neville's bag and used it to shield the boy's face. The aerated potion speckled Neville's hands with red boils.

"Ack!"

_"Nasty!"_

A majority of the Gryffindors found themselves covered in angry red boils where their skin was uncovered.

The small bits of Neville's disaster in the air triggered off a chain of potion disasters. The potions on the Gryffindor side fizzed and popped as they changed to a chartreuse color.

"Intriguing. I believe you have just lost whatever points your house has earned so far for that stunt," Professor Snape growled out as he lowered whatever incantation he had hastily thrown up to protect the uncontaminated part of the class.

The Professor had been able to spare Lavender Brown's and Parvati Patil's potions as they had taken a table in the back that was near the door.

Harry released Neville's bag, jumped down from the boy's shoulder and looked about the classroom.

He laughed when he saw Seamus; the boy's face looked like a star chart.

The professor stalked to the only two Gryffindors spared from the boil hazard. He leaned down over their cauldrons; Harry saw the man's face morph into a sneer worthy enough to kill a buffalo on sight.

From his spot next to Neville's quivering form, Harry could see Snape's mouth open in a hiss; it revealed the man's rows of yellow stained teeth.

Black eyes bored into the two eleven-year-old girls when he scathingly declared, "As you would have gotten a zero for these shoddy examples of boil cure potion, _you_ will escort your classmates to the infirmary.

"And _you, _Mr. Longbottom_,"_ Snape maliciously smiled as he turned to look at the quivering mass once known as Neville, " you will have the esteemed pleasure of shucking the skin off of salamanders Friday and Saturday evening."

Harry abandoned Neville's side for the boy's book bag. He ducked inside; Harry didn't want to be separated from Neville this early in the day and it seemed like they would be leaving the classroom early. Harry peeked out from under the fabric and watched Snape stalk over to Neville.

The Potions Master leaned down until he was at eye level with Neville.

The professor whispered menacingly in a voice that reverberated throughout the classroom.

"If you _ever_, cause this much of a mess again I will have you make a delousing potion and we will _feed_ it to your _pet,"_ when Snape enunciated, flecks of spittle flying out of his snaggle-toothed mouth.

"Pray to god _boy_ that, if that case comes to fruition, your cat is pure _muggle_ feline_."_

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"Well well _well_. What do we have here? A horde of firsties heading up to the infirmary?" An older teen in Slytherin robes sneered as the small group of Gryffindor first years found themselves in at a dead end in the dungeon. They must have made a wrong turn.

Neville had never seen a set of chompers before like the one this student had.

"I think you're right Marcus, look't the mass of them! The all have some sort of boil problem no?" The second Slytherin stated as he tugged on the cape of his Slytherin Quidditch gear.

"Hum. I wonder which one caused this little problem," Marcus questioned tauntingly as he and the other boy crowded the lost Gryffindors into a corner.

"It was an accident. Neville's cauldron tipped when he added the quills too early and droplets spread through the air," Hermione bravely stated as she stood next to Seamus.

The majority of her face had been spared of boils due to her large amounts of frizzed up hair.

"What ho! It was a saboteur! And not one of our little firsties after all!" the second boy crowed loudly.

"I apologized already to everyone, and I have a detention this weekend! I'dunno why he decided to singled me out to begin with!" Neville wailed.

He had never felt this stressed out in his life. It was getting to the point where he might need to ask for a calming potion.

Thank Merlin the next class happened to be Herbology and that it was after lunch. He hoped he would feel less frenzied for that class. He had four hours.

_'Or perhaps a bit less, depending on how long we've been lost.'_

The two older Slytherin students blocking the way snickered maliciously.

"Hey you know something, don't you?" Dean spoke up pointing at the teens.

The boils on his face ringed his eyes, making it look like he wore a pair of goggles.

"Heh, not that it matters now, but sounds like your little pal here, sat in the wrong spot."

"What do you mean?" Ron shouted at the pair.

"There's a story that Snape once had class with someone he really_, really_ hated. Now he hates anyone that sits in that spot as well," the second boy smirked.

"Montague, don't go giving out information for free!" Marcus berated his fellow Slytherin.

"If it was free it would half'ta be worth something; that round kid is doomed for the rest of his potion classes _anyway_. Heh. Look at 'im. He looks so very unhappy now that he knows. That's payment enough."

Marcus smiled grotesquely at them as he thought it over.

Lavender drew her wand. From Neville's position he could see that her arm was shaking.

"If the Gryffindors had any points left, I would take you back to zero once more for that little stunt Miss Brown. Mr. Flint and Mr. Montague, why are you not practicing on the Quidditch pitch right now?" Snape questioned as he departed from the shadows of the hallway.

"Professor! We came in for a break. The counter for Slytherin is at zero, sir. Was it a firstie that lost our points?"

Neville watched Professor Snape frown.

The man was about to answer when he looked over at the boil covered Gryffindors and rolled his eyes. From what Harry had briefly mentioned of the Slytherin House, Snape was not apt to talk about in-house problems with others watching.

He pointed down the hallway Neville's group had come from, and spoke in a clipped tone, "Go down that way and take a right. I'd hope you have enough brains between yourselves to figure out _those _directions. Go now, before I give you _all_ detention."

As the group darted down the corridor Seamus whispered to group of first years, "Gee, I'd rather spend a day wandering the dungeons covered in boils than stay for an extra hour in _his_ class. Thanks Nev, for figuring that out before I even realized it!"

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"Hey I ate those last week! Cranberries!" Justin exclaimed when the group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs reached the long table in the Herbology green house. The Gryffindors had enough time to get all patched up at the infirmary and with enough time to tuck in lunch.

Neville watched as he grabbed a few red berries of a shaking bush that Neville suspected was a Shivering Trundule.

"Uh Justin, I don't think that's a very good idea…" Neville started before the boy popped the berries into his mouth.

Justin's face puckered before he dashed through the open doorway and out into the sunny afternoon. The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors made disgusted faces when the boy retched.

"I see someone's already tried to eat something," the Herbology Professor declared as she entered the class area from a closed door back of the greenhouse.

"Is he going to be okay?" A quiet blond Hufflepuff questioned from the back.

"Oh yes, yes. The poor dear will be alright; everything in here is nonfatal. But now is a good time for lesson one!" Professor Sprout smiled as she clapped her hands together.

"Do not eat anything in one of the greenhouses unless given the go ahead. I've found that it's best to start off my younger students with uncomplicated plants. This year we will be going over the Icacinaceae family and a few of those plants that are …just a teensy bit nasty."

Neville was riveted. This would probably be his favorite class. No surprise there.

"_Urggh,_" Justin stated miserably as he entered the greenhouse once more.

"Ah Mr. Finch-Fletchley, feeling better then?"

"Yes, Professor," he answered weakly as he slowly came back to the group of students.

When he came to a stop near Ernie Macmillan and Seamus, they looked at him and winced before moving a foot away. Neville suspected it was in case Justin needed to vomit again.

"Mr. Finch-Fletchley, I suppose you have learned your lesson, then? Good," she said when the boy nodded while holding a hand to his mouth.

"Alright students, today you will chose a plant in here and use your texts to identify it. Everyone is to identify a different plant. You will then do a short write up for next class. About…five inches should do it," Professor Sprout expressed tapping one cheek, "And that will be all that I will require for you to do today."

"What are we to do if we finish early?" Hermione questioned when the professor looked about the room for any confused faces.

"Why, go play outside of course! Gryffindors have…_ History_ next, so get your energy out beforehand!" she smiled humorously when she made that last comment.

"Can we write on more than one species?"Hermione inquired.

"Dearie, you should have enough information in the text to reach five inches on one plant, don't worry about that," Professor Sprout answered.

"No I meant multiple papers."

"Why... would you want to do that? The weather outside is quite nice this time of year; it will get cold fast," she replied with her eyebrow raised at the young Gryffindor.

Neville thought she looked a bit flummoxed at the idea that someone wanted to do more homework.

He reached into his bag and brushed his hand across a purring, warm furry mass. Apparently Harry had decided to ditch this class for nap time. Neville would catch him up later on what he missed.

"But–"

"Hermione leave it be! One paper is enough. Besides… I need to talk to you about the…you-know-what," Ron whispered loudly near Hermione.

"What's a you-know-what?" Hannah Abbott curiously asked Ron.

"Nothing! It was just something that I saw earlier… no big deal really," Ron chuckled nervously attempting to end the conversation.

"Whatever you say," the blond girl stated dubiously.

"Well then. Snap to it! If you have any questions I'll be just over there," Professor Sprout broke in, as she pointed to a table that contained a single blue leafed plant with eyeballs on the end of its branches, "the azure ocularum needs to be pruned."

The plant squealed in terror and retracted its eyes.

Neville decided to choose a plant simply by closing his eyes and pointing. It seemed fairer that way. When he opened his eyes, he found himself pointing at a plant near the wall, hidden in corner next to the greenhouse door. From this distance it resembled a weed. It hadn't been chosen yet.

Neville walked past tables of different and bizarre looking plants. He loved it. This is where he felt he should be. Neville breathed in deeply. To him, it seemed as though the plants around him leaned in toward him.

He exhaled and continued his journey to the small plant sitting near the corner. He pulled the pot forward and examined the tiny plant within. It had small white flowers surrounded by twisting sprigs of emerald leaves. Neville licked a finger and flipped through his text until he found a contents page that listed plant species by flower colors.

"Hey, that one's a common garden weed! I would have chosen it if you hadn't," Seamus laughed as he strode up next to Neville and chose a strange plant with thick purple branches.

Seamus ended up with the plant that looked like it was sprouting boulders. It was larger than Neville's plant and at least three times as high. A pebbly mass in the middle of the trunk looked like a face.

Neville flipped through the pages of white-flowered plants until he came upon an entry that looked just like the plant before him.

"No it's Athelas, known as kingsfoil." Neville stated reverently, as he scanned the information listed about his plant's history. It was incredibly important for certain health potions. A century ago it had been used straight on wounds. Because of its less than outstanding features it was often overlooked. In the present, few outside of herbologists, potion makers and apothecary workers were able to identify it in the wild.

Neville reached out a hand and lightly brushed his fingers across a few of its leaves. That plant seemed to perk up and turn its tiny, complex little flowers toward him. A sweet scent drifted up from the blossoms. He smiled.

If only he could… Neville removed his hand and nervously walked over to where Professor Sprout was attempting to prune the blue bush in vain. The ocularum moved its branches out of the cutters whenever the professor was ready to snip them off.

"Professor? Would it be okay if I took a cutting from my plant for my textbook?"

"Oh! You want to press-dry it? That's a splendid idea, sweetie. It depends on that plant really. Which one did you chose?" the professor asked as she rubbed her forehead with a dirt covered sleeve.

"Um, the Athelas, over near the other wall," Neville answered shyly as he gripped his hands behind his back.

"That's a good one! There is quite a bit of folklore around that particular plant," she gestured him forward to where his plant was.

"They add it in as an enhancer in some types of health potions right?" Neville questioned as he wiped a smudge of dirt from the Athelas' pot.

"Splendid! A point to Gryffindor. Yes, it is a main component in surface wounds and damaged muscle potions," the professor smiled as she removed a few sprigs containing flowers and passed it off to him. Neville took them carefully and rearranged them in his textbook on an empty page. If he was lucky, he might be able to find a spell that would revitalize them; he'd like to have it in his garden.

"Hey Professor, what's the deal with my plant, it looks angry," Seamus questioned from the side.

Neville looked over at Seamus' plant. Its little pebble-like face was scowling.

"Ah, yes that plant is quite invasive," Professor Sprout lectured as the students nearby turned in curiosity.

"So like me then. 'kay….So I would be angry because my brill' self isn't outside," Seamus joked while flipping through his text.

"Alrighty then, looks like you have everything under control here…." The professor stated doubtfully before she headed back over to the azure ocularum.

Seamus poked his plant on its rocky cheek. The plant squinted up at the boy and scowled. Seamus laughed again.

"Poke it again! That face was amazing, I want to draw it!" Dean claimed leaving his plant that shifted through different shades of purple.

He brought over his set of drawing pencils he had brought from home and a muggle art pad.

"Hmm, alright!" Seamus stated enthusiastically; Neville would've bet he was planning to do it anyway.

The sandy-haired boy poked it a few more times while grinning goofily. Neville jumped back when the plant lunged forward, just missing Seamus' finger.

"_Bloody hell_! It bites! That's _brill!_ If I was a plant I would want to be this one!"

"Why would you want to be a plant?" Susan Bones questioned as she walked by, her books all packed up.

She stopped and narrowed her eyes at the boy who was currently brushing a finger this way and that as the plant tried to get it in its maw. Susan rolled her eyes.

"Well, plants are pretty successful," Neville spoke up in defense of the plant kingdom.

"He only envisions being a plant because they prove you could be brainless and still succeed," Susan pressed as she slung her bag over her should and opened the greenhouse door.

She paused as she stood in the doorway. Susan looked back at the three Gryffindor boys and added, "Quit it. If that thing bites you no one will give you any sympathy."

"Whatever you say," Seamus answered as he turned to the Hufflepuff and smiled, "besides, its way too slo– _Gyahhh!"_

The plant smirked as it mouthed the boy's finger. Seamus tried to shake it off as the plant held on. It seemed much springier than the rocks made it appear.

"Geroff, geroff, GEROFF!" Seamus yelled.

Professor Sprout made her way over to the group of boys and made a noise of disapproval.

"Rule number two: when a pot says '_do not touch_', it's a good idea to follow those directions, especially in the case of bonsai rocky whompers."

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Neville and Harry watched as Professor Binns ghosted through the chalkboard and into the classroom.

"Harry can you do that?" Neville questioned from the side of his mouth.

Harry made a short throaty hum. It was their sign for no. As it was, he didn't have that ability with the body he now wore. Harry wasn't too interested in discarding it to find out; he might actually cease to exist this time.

Everyone in the room perked up when the professor started to speak; it wasn't everyday one was taught by a ghost.

Ten minutes in, the first snores happened. And Professor Binns droned on.

Harry laughed from seat on top of Neville's pack. This was the worst class he had ever been in. He could just picture the end of the year scores.

Many students valiantly attempted to stay awake, but their eye lids drooped. A few students jerked awake every couple of seconds before they collapsed back into sleep.

Hermione Granger was the only one who appeared to be bright eyed; she was avidly taking notes.

Harry snorted.

Plip. Plip. Plip.

Harry waggled his tongue in disgust.

_Gross_. Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnigan were drooling on their desks.

_'What is worse,'_ Harry thought while he shuddered, _'is that there appear to be permanent drool stains on half these desks.'_

Neville shook his head blearily. Harry could tell he had a hard time staying in the land of the living.

It was time for Harry to take the wheel. He pounced on his friend's shoulder.

He nudged Neville's ink spattered right arm off the parchment and took up control of Neville's other arm.

_'So what's the plan with my wand then?_' Harry scribbled out.

He passed the quill to Neville's other hand and lightly slapped it when Neville didn't take the quill.

Neville's eyes blinked slowly. He rubbed them a bit before he wrote out an answer.

_'We should probably find an empty classroom for you to test it out; there's a nice chunk of free time before the astronomy class on Wednesday.'_

Harry took the quill and responded with, _'Okay, I'll try and find an empty classroom before then. It'd be brill if it works!'_

Neville could picture the destruction.

_'Find a good sized room, one in corridor that seems less used if you can.'_

_'Sounds good I think I'll go now, write a paper or something in here, seems like a good study hall type of class.'_

Neville sucked in a breath. Harry wasn't sure if Neville took what he wrote in the wrong context. So he tried to rephrase it differently.

_'He's boring, buy a good history book or use the text and read it yourself. He must be dryer than any text you could possibly find,_' Harry bluntly explained on the parchment.

Neville tilted his head in contemplation. His brow wrinkled up; Harry was quite sure that was a sign of his win in this argument.

Just as the boy was about to respond, Hermione reached across the snoring redhead and grabbed the feathery part of the quill.

"What in the world are you _doing_?" she hissed at him, "Stop playing games! The teacher might notice!"

Neville stared at her.

'_Right. The teach will single out a boy who is awake for not taking notes amidst the sea of head-down sleepers,_' Harry thought as he rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, you should all be paying attention!" she continued while nudging Ron with her elbow.

"Ack! Hermione, why'd you wake me up?" Ron questioned loudly in a drowsy voice.

"Did you have a question Mr. Wabasha?" the ghostly form nasalized from the front of the room.

"No sir."

His answer went unheeded, as the ghost had gone back to its historical monologue. Harry had found a new reason to despise this class. The ghostly teacher had obviously lost a few screws and marbles somewhere along the way.

Harry was afraid of it happening to himself as well. He hope that the body he was in would preserve his spirit; there seemed to be plenty of ghosts around that seemed to be in their right minds…but Harry still felt a bit queasy to his stomach. To the cat's stomach.

Harry jumped on the tabletop and took over Neville's arm as he wrote, _'Please. Don't let that happen to me.'_

Neville looked at him in concern before focusing on the teacher. His eyes lit up when he had an inkling of what Harry was writing about.

The boy looked back down at Harry who was stood in plain sight on his desk with his fur bristling out. Reaching out, Neville rubbed Harry's head.

"Don't worry," he whispered into one of Harry's twitching ears, "I won't let it happen. Besides the hat called you a wraith right? Perhaps they work differently than ghosts."

"Neville, cat on the table!" Hermione screeched in a high whisper, startling awake those sleeping around her.

Hermione was a stickler for rules and for the most part, pets were not supposed to be a distraction.

"Sorry," Neville apologized.

_'Shesh. I'm not even over there!'_ Harry thought as he jumped down into Neville's lap to where he could just see over the table.

He manipulated Neville's left arm into grabbing the quill once more and wrote out, _'I'm gonna go find a suitable room. Good luck in here.'_

Harry jumped down from Neville's lap and darted out the open doorway.

Neville sighed and pulled out his Herbology book.

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Harry felt he had found a suitable room on the third floor.

Now he just had to convince Neville why it was the best.

Harry exhaled deeply. He would definitely have to use whatever Slytherin cunning the hat saw in him to get Neville to come here.

The headmaster_ didn't_ say a student couldn't be on this level, _per se_. Just that it was strictly forbidden to those who did not want to die a _horrible gruesome death_.

_'Well, I've made it past that hurdle already,'_ Harry thought sarcastically as he cleaned one of his fur covered haunches.

Neville wouldn't get anywhere near dying anyway; Harry could smell the Dog-monster, and the classroom he had chosen was at the other end of the corridor, from the creature's room.

The door had been left ajar at some point in years past. Dust covered the floor, and the few desks inside were covered in protective sheets.

It was secluded. It was mostly was _perfect_.

_'This is the best spot. I'll convince him,'_ Harry thought confidently as he stretched and arched his back.

"Miarrr."

Harry's head shot up and he looked about until he found the cause of the noise closer to the Dog-monster's door.

A fluffy cat with large yellow eyes, that reflected red in the torch light, stared at him while swishing its tail about.

It was an odd thing really.

He could understand _snakes_. He thought he was able to pick out a few words from some of the other reptilians, it sounded like they spoke in a completely different language.

But he couldn't understand cats at all.

_'Guess I'm just weird. That's not too surprising,' _Harry thought as he flicked an ear in annoyance.

"What did ya find up here, my sweet? Any nasty little students?" a creepy voice spoke up.

A hunched over man with grey hair and pale bulging eyes rounded the corner.

"Why, a little pet _kitty_ cat. My sweet, do you sense the student nearby?" he asked the other cat as she continued to stare at Harry.

Her eyes narrowed at him and she yowled.

"Ah where is it! He won't get away from Filch!" the crazed man crowed in delight.

Filch, or who Harry supposed was Filch, banged his hand on the Dog-monster's door. Harry heard multiple howls resonate from within.

"Eeek!" a purple turbaned man screeched as he jumped out from a closed classroom nearest to the monster's door.

"Professor Quirrell! What were you doing in there? Shouldn't you be teaching a class?" The dingy caretaker said.

Harry remembered him now; the headmaster had introduced him at the welcoming feast.

"E-ended early. J-just w-wanted to c-check on t-the S-stone." The turbaned man stuttered.

"You should know it is well protected. No one is getting past tho' traps," Filch spoke as he lifted a torch.

Harry watched as the grubby man stood up straighter. Harry wondered if his patrols were part of these sanctioned 'traps' as well. Or if the man just respected the people who had laid them. _'How weird, why would a school need traps?'_

"W-well I j-just w-wa-wanted t-to make s-sure," the stuttering man grimaced.

"S-students k-know n-not t-to come here, h-how about I t-take over p-patrolling th-this place? T-they would o-only c-come here a-after curfew a-anyways," the younger man stated as he moved a foot away from the caretaker.

Harry perked up; he was interested now. Something was about to happen, the air seemed cloyed with tension.

"I don't think I can do that; I promised Professor Snape, I did. Patrol the hallways I told him I would," the caretaker replied proudly.

"Hm, yes. Well I don't think you need to do that anymore._ Imperio_!"

Harry watched in horror as the once stutterer pulled out a dark looking wand and cast a spell. The caretaker sagged in place. Harry scuttled off to a corner and ducked behind a pile of rubbish; he had a bad feeling about this. And he didn't want to be spelled as well.

The other cat howled bloody murder.

"Shut up, you bloody animal!" Professor Quirrell pointed his wand at the cat and shot a spell that caused it to fall over on the ground, unmoving.

"Now, you hear me Filch?"

"Yess," the blank eyed stringy haired man dully stated.

"Repeat then: Snape never asked you to patrol this corridor."

"Snape never asked me to patrol this corridor."

"Good. _Obliviate_!" the purple robed man calmly cast in satisfaction.

He obliviated the other cat as well. Harry was extremely happy that his first instinct was to hide.

Harry peeked around the pile of stones as the caretaker floundered a bit in confusion when the other man jolted him awake.

"F-Filch? Wh-what are y-you d-doing here?" the Professor questioned with a cowardly air.

His stutter had returned, though Harry figured it was probably a ruse for something.

_'I need to find Neville soon; that was too weird.'_

"I was just patrolling the… I mean? I'm not quite sure," Filch spoke as he looked about in confusion.

"S-Snape asked m-me to p-patrol at n-night u-up he-here. T-thought I h-heard something. G-good t-thing h-huh? L-looks like s-some s-student j-jumped y-you," Professor Quirrell spoke with a slight bit of fear.

'_He's good. I bet he could easily get a movie gig with his acting skills,'_ Harry thought, as he watched the two men from behind the rubble pile.

"Dirty little buggers! I ought to string them all up in the dungeons!" Filch roared as he took off down the corridor to the stairs, followed by the other feline.

Professor Quirrell stood in hallway after the caretaker hand left. He twiddled his wand about in his hand before he tapped it against his cheek and smirked nastily.

With one look back at the door that reeked of numerous nasty dogs, the professor cast a 'tempus' spell. Harry could see the time displayed above the wand in blood red numbers.

It was almost time for dinner. Now was the best time for him to find Neville.

He just hoped he wouldn't get stepped on by the horde of hungry students.

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'_What is does Imperio do? Can it be used to wipe memories and create new ones?_' Harry wrote out with Neville's help, on a sheet of parchment in the Gryffindor common room after supper.

Neville spewed the pumpkin juice he had been drinking across the table.

A chorus of Gryffindors in the background commented on the distance of his projectile shot.

Neville smiled nervously at the students in the room before he ripped off the strip of paper and crumpled it up. Neville brought his hand down under the table to pocket the parchment piece; he would burn it later.

The bit of parchment went unnoticed as it bounced off the edge of his robe pocket and rolled on to the rug beneath the table.

"Harry! That stuffs illegal! What are you planning on doing with it?" Neville whispered harshly.

_'I saw a teacher perform it on the caretaker. Don't be alone in the room with Professor Quirrell, Nev. He's not what he seems.'_

Neville exhaled the air he had been holding in as Harry finished penning out his answer. He wasn't sure what he would do if Harry had wanted to _use _one of the looked around the room and noticed some of his year mates looking in his direction. He grimaced; there really was no way for him to communicate with Harry in public without someone thinking he was a loony. He tended to have bad luck with such things, he would be caught.

Oh well.

Keeping the pen in his left hand, because it would seem weird if he switched them while someone was watching, he clumsily wrote out,_ 'Imperio is mind control, obliviate erases memories.'_

Neville felt his arm go funny when Harry answered back, _'He did both. I suppose he implanted a suggestion then? There are traps in a room on the third floor. Farther down the hall is a good room for us though. That professor plans on only patrolling that area at night.'_

Neville blanched. The hairs on the back of his neck rose at the thought that he would soon be taught by a professor that threw around Unforgivables and memory removers. They weren't supposed to go on the third floor, and if he was caught by this professor, who knew what the man would do. Neville knew he would do his best to stay as far away from the man in class. He gulped; he had DADA tomorrow.

Harry was going to get him in trouble some day and Neville felt it would be sooner rather than later.

_'Not a good idea, it's restricted,_' Neville attempted, already feeling like he had lost the argument.

'_It's empty, no one will be patrolling it during day hours, and it's far away from the Dog-monster's door. I'll take you there Wednesday! It's grand!'_ Harry wrote out as he chattered excitedly.

The sheet was completely covered in writing so Neville rolled it up and shoved it in his bag. He would need to order more reams of parchment, they would probably blow through what he had in the next few weeks. He'd ask Gran to send more paper when he owled her tomorrow about sending his socks to school.

In his panicked packing state on the day of the train ride; he had completely missed packing more than two pairs of socks.

Neville hoped Gran didn't send a Howler as well.

'_What is the Dog-Monster?_' Neville wrote at the top of the new sheet of parchment.

"What _is_ a Dog-monster?" Parvati Patil questioned as she sat down at the table next to Neville, her arms filled with a few texts.

Neville jumped in his seat.

"A Dog-monster?" Hermione questioned from across the room where she was attempting to cajole some of the boys into starting their Herbology essays early.

"Yeah, Neville is writing about a Dog-monsters," Parvati answered while leaning closer to his piece of parchment.

"Like werewolves or hellhounds?" Ron questioned perking up.

Anything was better than plants.

"I don't know. I was just bored in History ya'know."

"I thought you were doing an essay?"

"Er... I was! But then I started thinking about…dogs," Neville finished lamely.

He needed to finish speaking with Harry.

Neville stood up from the table, yawned, and told the others that he was heading off to bed early.

.

.

He missed the look exchanged by Ron and Hermione when he left. Hermione sat down at his vacated spot and removed a few books from her bag. She retrieved her Herbology essay which was already a foot long. Hermione opened the Herbology text and proceeded to find more information.

When Ron sat down to join the newly made study group at the table, Hermione's quill rolled on to the floor.

She ducked down under the table and reached blindly for it. Hermione's hand encountered something and she brought it up to her view. In her hand was a crumpled piece of paper.

"What's that Hermione?" Ron questioned as he pulled out some cards.

The boys were more interested in playing exploding snap.

"I don't know," she murmured as she un-crumpled it.

He shrugged and passed out the cards. He wasn't that interested.

Her eyes grew wide as she read what was written on the smoothed out piece of parchment. She crumpled it back up and shoved it in her pocket. She'd show it to Ron later when there were less people around.

.

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_"We are ALL at your service!"_

_"Chip the glasses, crack the plates! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates – That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_

Ding Dong! The doorbell rang, echoing above Mindy's favorite song!

"Mindy! Could you answer the door for Mum, sweetie? I've got my hands full with dinner right now," Mummy called from the kitchen where she was making. hm. O_h!_ Mummy was making SPEGETY!

_"So carefully! Carefully with the plates!"_

_"_OKAY Mummy!"

The five year jumped clumsily from the couch and went to the television to pause her favorite movie. Her pigtails flapped in the air as she dashed to the door. Before grabbing the door knob, Mindy tried wiping the sticky melted candy from her hands onto her skirt. _'Errgh! She just became sticky all over!'_ She opened the unlocked door and there in the doorway stood GANDALF!

"MUMMY MUMMY! Oh my _goodness!_ Gandalf _IS HERE_! He's a WIZARD!" Mindy smacked her sticky hands together as she screamed to her mother.

"Uh…" Gandalf intoned his mouth opening and closing. He leaned his body to the side of the door and squinted in the darkness of the evening at where the house number would be.

"This is Number 4 Privet Drive is it not?" Gandalf asked Mindy in confusion.

Mindy nodded excitedly as she jumped about in the doorway, _'Gandalf was here! And his dress was cooler in real life! It was sparkly lime! With unicorns!'_

"Are you a Petunia Dursley's daughter?"

"I LOVE YOU Gandalf! Stay fo' Dinner _P'EASE_!" the five-year-old screamed as she launched herself and latched onto the old man's torso.

.

.

Chapter Six complete! Now on to chapter 7!

It will take awhile for Dumbledore to track down the Dursleys and get a confirmation that Harry did die. I'm going to drag it out through the year, as Dumbledore is a pretty important person and probably is busy most of the year. If not at school then working at the Wizengamot. It will be even longer before the wizarding world finds out. _That_ will end up being important to year two, when the Daily Prophet picks up the story. Honestly, I am really trying not to hurry year one up too much. I really want to get to the year after this, where things will end up diverging a lot more, while keeping some sprinkles of the original plot. :)

So the _"We are ALL at your service! Chip the glasses, crack the plates! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" _comes from the cartoon version of the Hobbit made in 1977. I watched 3 minutes of it on YouTube. I seemed to have Lord of the Rings on the brain, as there is another LotR item within the chapter.

A small reference to Sucker Punch as well. The action scenes in that movie were quite exquisite; it was one movie I wished I could have seen in 3D.

R/R please! I'm pretty interested in any feedback I get.


	7. Charybdis

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter; I'm just mucking about in that world.

**Thanks to: Risi, Dudeabides, Greener, Moonstone Blaze, GenoBeast, Ming Xiong, Bookivore, Fk306 Animelover, Justawriter33, Mini-mid for reviewing the last chapter!**

**.**

**.**

**The First Step is Fatal**

Chapter 7: _Charybdis_

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Tuesday passed by quicker than Harry thought it would. Charms was taught by Professor Flitwick, who seemed a bit preoccupied when he lectured his students on the applications of levitation. Harry wondered if it was because of the fact that he seemed to be expected to be here at Hogwarts or if the professor was usually that spaced out. The professor's face was an open book; he did seem worried about something. Harry laughed as Neville spun about in happiness at the end of the class out in the empty stone corridor. When the cat had asked, Neville answered while he grinned that, _'he was over the moon that this class was not one that he had an accident in'_. That was left to Seamus who burnt his eyebrows off. Harry believed that Neville had come out of that class as somewhere in the middle; he wasn't the first to get his feather to float, nor was he the last.

Harry was annoyed that no one had accused the DADA professor of foul play when Neville reemerged from that class.

"Now Harry are you completely sure it was Quirrell? I really don't see how that guy can do anything," Neville questioned his cat friend that night in the dorm when everyone was in the common room.

_'There is only one person I have seen so far that wears that much purple. I'm telling you, it's a ruse,' _Harry scribbled out angrily on the sheet of parchment.

His ears were down and the fur on his back stood up.

"It's very good then. Perhaps it was just because it was the first class. Maybe it will get better, class wise, and he'll slip up or something," Neville stated in an attempt to pacify his friend.

And that was that. They went down to dinner afterwards and the conversation was forgotten.

.

.

Neville's socks arrived at breakfast Wednesday morning. Three owls broke off from the flying feathered mass and descended to his spot on the table. Two great horned owls, bearing the Longbottom family colors in ribbons wrapped around their legs, carried bulky packages of socks from his Gran. The third, which Neville could easily identify as his uncle's own carrier - a Mexican striped owl that had a tendency to hiss at Neville - arrived with a gift from his uncle. The Gryffindor quickly untied the package from the bird as it eyed him with pitch black eyes. The letter that Gran sent berated him for forgetting an important part of his wardrobe. Neville took this to heart and made a vow to pack the night before in the future, instead of in the few minutes before the train would leave.

His uncle's letter was less than comforting. Uncle Algie had expected Neville to forget something important in the first few weeks. In preparation for this, he had gone out and purchased a remembrall. Remembralls were quite fashionable in the Forties.

Neville stared at the ball of white mist trapped within the globe of glass and gold wires. The mist bloomed a crimson red in the palm of his hand. Neville wrinkled his nose._ 'Great, I've forgotten something. If only it would show what,'_ he thought as he frowned in concentration. _'Nope can't remember. Useless bauble,'_ He sighed as he dropped it to the bench next to Harry, who had eaten his breakfast and waited for Neville to finish. Harry's tail twitched about in impatience.

Now he had something that was easily breakable. Neville hoped Harry would not break it in his bag.

Amidst the crowds of owls that were landing at Gryffindor table, a new one descended and stood in front of him. The owl regarded him silently and held out a leg. Neville did not recognize it as one of his family's; it was a common barn owl- though it seemed well taken care of. In fact, it looked like one of the school owls. The Gryffindor had visited them yesterday in the owlery when he had sent his letter home to Gran. The place was filled with barn owls and a few other varieties that were likely pets. _'Thank Merlin its above ground; I doubt Snape would ever assign me detention and have me clean up their messes!'_

The owl hooted in annoyance when Neville attempted to retrieve the letter. She, -at least Neville thought it was a girl-, hopped about the table. It dropped the letter face down into his scrambled eggs.

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.

Harry looked up from his milk in displeasure. It had appeared in front of him when he had finished off the plate of anchovies that had appeared in front of him. As much as he disliked the small fish before he had met his demise by stairway, they seemed quite tasty now. Harry figured it must have had something to do with his cat like body, taste must be wired differently. These little fish had certainly not tasted like a fillet of tuna before.

_'Now to find the cat equivalent of an apple...' _Harry thought as he twitched an ear.

The number of owls visiting Neville seemed ridiculous to the boy turned cat. He had no problems with the boy receiving mail, but each flap of feathery wings near the table caused him to twitch. Harry's bird radar continued to sound the alarm as his eyes flicked about from bird to bird to bird. He needed to _jump, pounce! and bite._ Pounce, pounce _pounce! Feel_ feathery bodies betwixt his paws!

He vaulted to the top of the table and attempted to fling himself, claws first, at the fourth bird to arrive with Neville's mail.

"Sable! Stop!"

The bird must have sensed his approach, it had taken flight just as he had leapt to the top of the table. A plate fell to the floor. His claws landed in old weathered table wood.

Harry heard an intake of breath as Neville dropped the letter to the table and stared at it with wide eyes. Soggy scrambled eggs clung to the front of the envelope, the drippings distorted the name on the front. The ink at the edges of the name diluted into the egg juice just enough to give it a fuzzy look. Harry felt himself go lighted headed and he sat down on the table and joined Neville in the stare off with the letter.

For there in a wonderful loopy hand was his name. This was the second letter ever addressed to Harry Potter.

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_'Oh man, it's addressed to Harry Potter. I wondered when I would have to deal with this,'_ Neville thought.

He was actually surprised that Harry wasn't swimming in mail most mornings; Neville would have expected Harry to receive handfuls of fanmail by owl. His only explanation was that someone must have spelled Harry with some sort of mail blocker. It made sense, Harry had lived with muggles after all, and flocks of owls would have drawn too much attention from magic and muggle eyes. Neville would have liked to know that spell; if he could use it to block howlers he'd be set.

"Sable! Look what you've done," Neville pretended to berate his cat as he pushed the envelope closer to Dean, who sat on his other side.

Harry yowled in denial. It drew Dean's attention as he turned to the boy and his cat.

"What's up Neville?"Dean Thomas questioned from the side.

"An owl delivered something to our table, but the person's not here," Neville answered, as cool as possible._ 'It was only a partial lie,'_ Neville thought guiltily, _'Harry isn't here in person.'_

"We'll take it up to the common room, the receiver can open it there," Dean answered as he went back to his toast.

Neville picked up the letter and placed it face up next to Dean's plate. The loopy handwriting was still legible.

"Who's it to?" Dean asked as he picked up the letter before he read it out loud.

"Harry _Potter_? Is that the person you said was really famous?" he questioned Seamus on his other side.

"Yeah, 'e was supposed to be in our age group. Weird huh?" Seamus responded with a mouth full of hash.

Dean handed the letter to Seamus who put down his fork and lifted the letter above his face. Seamus moved it about before he shrugged and handed it back to Dean.

"Should we give it to a professor?" Neville questioned.

He really hoped someone else would.

"The letter's too thick; I can't read it through the envelope. It's up to yo'" Seamus uttered as he turned back to his breakfast.

"Sounds like a good idea, I'll be right back," Dean concluded as he stood up and finished off his pumpkin juice.

Neville, Seamus, and Harry watched as Dean delivered the letter to the headmaster, who frowned as was handed the letter.

Snape, on one side of the headmaster scowled down at the envelope. Neville let out a sigh of relief that their next class with the Potions Master was on Friday. One of the Weasley prefects told them that after the first day, all potion practicals would be performed on the second class day in the week._ 'Thank Merlin, I'll only blow up the classroom once a week.'_ He flinched, at the thought of never having a future weekend free of potions work. Neville would probably end up gutting creatures for the rest of the year.

"Hey! I got five points for bringing the letter up there!" Dean stated ecstatically as he reached the table.

"Brill, I hope we get more letters, we're in third place. It seems like an easy way to dupe the system," Seamus answered as he rubbed his chin.

"They would just stop giving out points if something happened often. What's this?" Hermione broke in as she arrived at the table with Ron at her side.

Ron stared at Neville before he took a seat on the other side of Seamus. Neville wondered what was up with him.

"Oh, that's a remembrall. It turns red if you've forgotten something," Neville answered.

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.

Harry watched as the girl picked up the orb that occupied the empty place on the bench. Just as she flipped it over in one hand, her body jerked forward, and it fell from her grasp. Harry flinched at the sound of the remembrall when it shattered on the floor; red smoke billowed and shrieked as it evaporated.

"I'm so sorry Neville! I was pushed!" Hermione scowled as she turned to the thick chuckling boy behind her.

"Well Granger, looks like someone has butterfingers," Draco smirked as he stepped around Crabbe.

Harry had never seen a broken magical artifact before. He hoped off the table, avoiding the glass shards, and sniffed at the disfigured shape of the golden wire. Around him, Gryffindor first years bristled at the three Slytherins.

"Malfoy, your table is on the other side of the room or did you forget?"

"Of course not Granger; if I had, I probably wouldn't have been a Slytherin. No idea how Longbottom made it into Gryffindor, it he had a remembral he would have done better with the rest of the pufferduffs!"

"Shut it, Malfoy!"

Harry batted at the golden wire and it rolled about on the stone. He opened his mouth in an attempt to grin. He ignored the conversation roiling around him; this seemed to be the norm for both groups of first years.

"I'd like to see you try it. Anyway, poor Lardbottom will now suffer seven years bad luck due to Granger's mishandling of his remembrall, everyone knows that's what happens to the people who own them when they break," Draco chimed in innocently.

The golden ball of wire rolled across the stone floor and snagged on the blond Slytherin's robe hem.

"I don't believe you Malfoy! Neville s'not cursed!"

"Eh, whatever you say. It will be all Granger's fault if it kills him."

"Why I oughta- "

"What? Draw your wand. I dare you."

"Ron stop! We're in a room with teachers!"

The boot moved and Harry followed, as he batted at it. 'This is rather fun.' Harry looked up at the blond Slytherin as he turned, his mission of irritating the Gryffindors complete. Harry trotted off after him, then turned towards the table and looked at Neville.

Neville made a move to get up as well before Hermione reached out a hand and touched his shoulder.

"Neville wait. Can Ron and I speak to you privately?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. Neville mouthed,_ 'Meet me back here before the first class,'_ before he turned and followed Hermione.

Harry skittered off and chased after Draco as the boy made it to the front entrance. Draco exited the castle with Crabbe and Goyle in tow, and joined the rest of the Slytherin first years that loitered about in the front of the castle. Harry snorted when the girl who had grabbed Draco's had after the Sorting perked up and smiled in the boy's direction. Harry imagined that the boy was grimacing, his spine had stiffed and he had started to approach at a slower pace. The goons on either side of him didn't notice, and continued their jaunt to the group.

"Draco! We've been waiting for you!" she called out as the rest of the troop rolled their eyes.

He stopped suddenly and Harry accidentally ran into Draco's leg. Draco looked down at him and Harry could see the boy calculating something by look in his eyes. His face cleared and the boy grinned.

"Hey Pansy, look! It's a cat!" he called out excitedly as he grabbed Harry and hoisted him into the air.

Harry yowled in surprise.

"I don't like cats," the girl frowned as she wrinkled her nose.

"Oh," Draco stated, put off for a second before he switched gears, "It's mine then, go away."

"No wait! I like cats! Really I do!" she called out as he turned to hide his smirk. The other female Slytherins tittered at her antics.

"Nope. You've hurt Sable's feelings. Stay away," Draco stated harshly as he walked in the direction he had turned in.

"Draco wait! We don't have Herbology just yet! We were planning on hanging out by the lake, come with us!"

"Crabbe, come with me._ Horntail_," Draco called out as Crabbe followed dutifully.

Harry was confused, until Draco clutched him to his torso; Harry snorted as he looked back over the boy's shoulder. Apparently, _'Horntail'_ was a code word for 'blocking Pansy from following Draco'. Frankly Harry was surprised that the trollish boy was able to remember that. Draco carried Harry the short distance to the greenhouses before he unceremoniously dropped Harry to the ground.

"Another Pansy deterrent. The more the better!" Draco smugly voiced as Crabbe guffawed.

The two of them circled the greenhouses with Harry following behind them. As they walked around greenhouse four, Draco quickly put a finger to his mouth and grabbed Crabbe's shoulder to stop him. He quickly gestured to an open window and ducked beneath it. The boy cast a whispered spell on the grass; he then sat down in the dried patch. The spell had removed the dew from the area. Vincent sat down next to him as Draco pointed upwards to the open window and gestured for the other boy to be silent until understanding crossed Crabbe's face. Harry went over and placed his forepaws on one of Draco's knees as they listened in on half a conversation.

_"Honestly, I think I would know it I had an extra student, Albus."_

_"No, he's probably with them, where ever they are."_

_"Albus, you can't have us leaving the school to look for the child. If word gets out that you don't know where he is; the newspaper would have their readers taking up their wands and removing you from the school! Now, what happened when you went to Privet Drive?"_

_"But the wards! Albus, they should have alerted you!"_

_"No."_

_"I agree. Minerva would be best to question Figg. I'd assume she's been on Privet Drive for the last two days?"_

_"Sounds like all you can do is hope for now. I have a class to prepare for, when Minerva gets back...hopefully we will know."_

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"Hey, he's supposed to be your friend but you let him treat you this way? Some Gryffindor," Ron started in on Neville when they had entered a corridor clear of other students.

"It doesn't bother me, it's just how he was raised. Besides we aren't friends," Neville frowned.

He had told them before that Draco was not one of his friends.

"Really Neville, I know you said that already; but really you can't say that you would let someone else do the same," Hermione answered as she crossed her arms.

Neville was a bit perplexed.

"It doesn't matter what you say, you aren't a Gryffindor I saw what you did in potions class," Ron broke in before Neville could ask his question.

"Accidentally have my potion explode?" Neville questioned as he floundered in confusion.

"No. When it was smoking. No one mentioned it so I must have been the only one to see. You deliberately pushed your bloody potion out at us. No Gryffindor would do that!" Ron yelled, his face red.

"Language Ron!"

"Cut it out Hermione! It's the truth," Ron finished, he ran one of his hands through his hair in agitation.

"Ron's right Neville, you've been acting funny. Its…I just don't know what you're doing. Sometimes you do things that are completely different from what I'd expect you to do."

"I'm sorry guys, I completely forgot you were on the otherside of the table; that's just how I used to deal with potion problems," Neville apologized.

He had forgotten that they were on the other side of the table; even if he technically wasn't the one to push it over.

"Well, ….well don't do it again! It's horribly dangerous; that's probably why the professor dropped us back to zero. And the handwriting, I think you should stop trying to be ambidextrous; your writing is horrid when you try," Hermione smiled as she laughed at the end.

"Ah well… its fun?" Neville answered as he smiled back a little.

"Urrrghh! Stop making excuses and be more….be more like us! More Gryffindor! Don't let Malfoy walk all over you!" Ron stated to the other Gryffindor boy.

"He just doesn't bother me that much. I choose my battles," Neville replied.

It wasn't entirely true, but Draco was just being Draco; responding to him would just cause him to do it more.

"Ya'know Ron, maybe you should take Neville's stance, you and-"

"Never Hermione, I won't give into that slimy snake!" Ron interrupted and shook his head.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well we'd best get to Transfiguration, it will start soon."

Neville headed back to the Great Hall after he mentioned that he left something in there. Harry trotted through the open entrance a few minutes after Neville. The Gryffindor scooped up his small Slytherin friend and headed off to the Transfiguration classroom. In his free time yesterday he had found where it was; Neville wasn't interested in getting lost to what would be his first class with the Gryffindor House Head.

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He made it on time, but there were two substitutes instead of Professor McGonagall.

"Everybody here then?" A red haired older teen at the front of the room questioned when it was time for the class to begin.

"Due to some personal matters Professor McGonagall is on leave, though she is expected to be back next week. As I am waiting for a job to pull through in Romania, Professor McGonagall hit me up as a substitute, for the younger years. My assistant here will be helping me with the class until Hooch is finished with the Hufflepuff Quidditch tea. Today will be an easy day for you all, but don't expect any future Transfiguration classes to go this way. McGonagall likes to have you practicing spells until the end of class," Charlie Weasley announced to the Gryffindor students.

Because Transfiguration required enough space for everyone to perform spells that could have objects increase in size, it was a class taught to one house at a time, like Defense Against the Dark Arts. Neville wasn't sure if he liked it better or not. More students meant less focus on him unless something exploded.

"Urgghrhem. So to begin today's lecture, we shall start on the basic properties of what Transfiguration is, and later we will teach you the most basic inanimate to inanimate object transfiguration spell."

The class went pretty well until Charlie Weasley attempted to award Gryffindor some points.

"Headmaster Dumbledore appointed us both to this position you lout!"

"Well one of us has graduated already. Besides, I don't see any Slytherin's for you to dock points from in this class, Bartleby. So I will do the point awarding and docking today." Charlie answered as he scribbled some definitions on the chalk board.

"Yeah well, so far none of your Gryffindors have even grasped the concept!" Prefect Bartleby snorted as he tapped his wand against his elbow.

"Uhm, Mr. Weasley? I think I've got it," Hermione confidently answered from the front row with her hand raised.

"See there, Bartleby? Not all Gryffindors are as brainless as you want to think. Five points to you. Hermione, right? Ronnie's little friend, he sent a letter home. Five points for being the first to succeed," Charlie smiled at the first year.

"Hey! I didn't agree to that! We were specifically told only to give out points that we agree on!" Bartleby shouted from the side of the classroom.

The Slytherin prefect jabbed his finger into the slightly older teen's chest. Charlie removed the finger and wrapped an arm about the other boy's shoulders and pulled him closer. His other hand fluffed up the Slytherin's immaculate hairstyle.

"C'mon shorty! We gave the first Slytherin to succeed five points!, I think my Gryffies deserve the same care."

"Listen you overgrown redheaded mongoloid, release me! It's _your_ own damn oversight for thinking I would agree to your terms," Prefect Bartleby shouted as he thumped Charlie in the chest getting the other boy to release him.

_'Ask about the removal of spark stones from dragons Nev!' _Harry wrote on the edge of Neville's notes sheet.

Neville had complete forgotten Harry was there. He looked about the room, everyone else seemed to be focused on the two older boys as well. From where Neville sat it looked like Ron was silently cheering for his older brother.

"Prefect Weasley? Is it true that spark stones are removed by slitting a dragon's throat?" Neville was not sure where Harry was going with that question, but he asked it anyway.

"WHO THE BLOODY HELL TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT!" the older freckled redhead shouted in rage.

Oh. That's_ right_. Charlie Weasley was into dragons.

_'I can't believe you wanted me to ask that!' _Neville wrote next to Harry's question as the man at the front of the room went berserk on the subject of dragon rights.

The cat just gasped in air as he rolled about on the bench. Neville felt ignored so he poked the cat in the side lightly and whispered 'bad kitty'; which only made the small black cat wriggle about more.

"Draco Malfoy told us, it was Professor Snape who asked Neville the question," Seamus broke in when Charlie Weasley took a deep breath, with a wicked glint in his eye.

It seemed as though he was hoping for a show as well. Neville wondered idly if the boy's second house choice would have been Slytherin.

"Ohoho, I see. It was _'Lets ask a little Gryffindor question's he wouldn't know the answers to!'_ What a horrible thing to ask, no wonder the Malfoy heir was able to answer."

"Are you implying that as a _Slytherin, _he would know about illegal items?_"_ Prefect Bartleby questioned snidely.

"Exactly what I'm_ implying_! It was asked just to rouse a Gryffindor's sense of virtue!" the graduate answered as he poked the other boy.

"Well maybe you all should calm down and look at reality; it happens, get over it!" the Slytherin retorted as he slapped the hand away.

"Why you – "

"Headstrong piece of –"

"SLIMEY SLYTHER–"

"MORONIC GRYF– "

_CLANG!_

A ruckus of a thousand pots and pans clashed together rang throughout the room. The two older teens had wrestled themselves to the floor in a fight with wands forgotten.

"BOYS! You two were up here to teach a group of first years, not wrestle about at the front of the classroom! Enjoy lowering you points back to zero, for Gryffindor and Slytherin! With all the confusion about the points taken away from Slytherin yesterday, you are now BOTH even at zero again. Goodness Gracious! I will be sitting in for the rest of this class; obviously it was too much to ask for the pair of you to work together for more than one day. _ Gryffindors and __Slytherins, indeed!" _a voice shouted from the back of the classroom.

"But Madam Hooch! I'm not even a student anymore," Charlie volunteered in an attempt to get Gryffindor's points back.

She stared at him and repeated, "Gryffindor. Back to zero."

The grey, spiky haired woman looked about the room with hard yellow eyes. Neville watched as she yanked the two boys apart and shoved them to different ends of the room. The class returned to a semblance of normality as Charlie lectured about transfiguration under her watchful eye.

When the class was given time to perform the practical, everyone attempted to turn matchsticks into needles. Neville's matchstick turned white and sharp.

"Well…it is needle shaped but it doesn't seem to be a sewing needle," Charlie shrugged.

He picked it up and snapped Neville's needle in two.

"Hm, I think you turned this into a plant needle, like a cactus or something, good try! Work on making this one a sewing needle," Charlie stated as he palmed Neville's head and placed a new matchstick on the desk before he walked over to the next student.

Neville looked around. Everyone seemed adequately busy; and there was no time like the present.

Neville slipped his wand back into his pocket, and reached into his bag for Harry's phoenix wand that had been placed safely in one of the side pockets.

He grabbed it awkwardly with his left hand and gestured to his shoulder. Harry meowed and climbed up. Neville felt Harry take control of it, "On the count of three," he muttered.

Harry nodded.

"One, two, three! _Morph Acuta!"_

Neville watched as his left arm formed the spell motion flawlessly.

The match was still a match.

Harry exhaled. Neville found himself placing the wand gently back in the bag, before Harry disconnected and jumped down to the bench. Neville spent the rest of the class turning matchsticks into cactus needles. At least Hermione won Gryffindor some points back. It would take a large number of letters to Harry if Seamus wanted to win the cup that way this year alone.

.

.

It had been much easier than he had originally thought to get Neville to go to the room. The Gryffindor had had a free period before lunch, and thankfully the stair way seemed pretty empty. It lowered their chances of being caught. Neville had placed his hand on the door that contained the monster, when Harry had growled at it in an attempt to explain to Neville what was there. The boy jumped back with a yelp when something barked from within. He had given Harry a white panicked look before they entered the abandoned classroom farther down the hallway. Neville shut the door and slid down it as he took in deep breaths of air. The cat left him to his breathing as he scoped out the room once more and hoped on one of the covered desks. Eventually Neville had gotten his breathing under control and moved the cloth from the desk.

_'Hey? What's a Sorcerer's Stone? That's what the dog monster is supposed to be protecting,'_ Harry wrote out on a piece of parchment that had been placed on a desk in the classroom on the third floor.

"WHAT?" Neville shouted as he jerked up out of the old wooden chair.

_'?'_

"THEY HAVE a Philosopher's stone in the _school? Merlin!" _Neville threw his arms up in the air and started to pace.

"Merrow?"

"They are the same…No wonder the professors are loony enough to have a monster here. But… why would they keep it in a school?" he questioned out loud as he tapped his hands together nervously.

_'WHAT IS IT? WHAT. WHAT?' _Harry wrote out while meowing pitifully, when Neville had approached the desk after his sudden bout of pacing_._

"It makes the user immortal! It must be here because Dumbledore is here!" Neville smiled as he solved that mystery.

Harry snorted. Neville continued to say that Dumbledore was the strongest wizard alive, but Harry had yet to see the man in action. Professor Snape looked like he could easily defeat the old man. Until he saw Dumbledore in battle, he would still be an unbeliever to the headmaster holding that title.

"No really, Harry. He is the strongest Wizard alive, who better to protect something like that?"

'_I highly doubt it does what you say,' _Harry wrote.

As far as Harry could tell, nothing in the wizarding world seemed so cut and dry. If it was that awesome, more people would be after it. The stone promised immortality - immortality probably came with some nasty side affects.

"Harry! It's well known for that… though Gran believes it to be cursed."

_'Because someone with that much power would have taken over the world. There has to be a downside to it.'_

"Yeah," Neville stated nervously, "Gran thinks that it might be some kind of vampire artifact. I heard her and Uncle Algie talking about it once."

_'There really are VAMPIRES?' _Harry questioned as he went over some of the ideas muggles had about the creatures.

"Extremely rare, not much is known about them, other than the aversions to sunlight. Can we talk about something else now? I don't like this conversation; promise me Harry, that you won't go after it. Please?"

_'Easy, I promise. I don't want to be stuck forever like this, and I rather like the sun. I'm with your Grandmother; I believe it's cursed,'_ if it turned out it wasn't, well, maybe he would check it out.

"Well, we'll never find out so…wandwork…? Perhaps you should try to say the words as well?" Neville questioned as he reached into his bag and removed Harry's wand.

_'I'll give it a try.'_

The cat climbed up to Neville's shoulders while the boy dug around for a practice matchstick Madam Hooch had given the first years to practice with. Harry, flicked his wand about in practice. Harry looked at the matchstick on the table and yowled the spell as he performed the accompanying wand movement. The match stayed in its match form. Harry grunted and brought the wand up near his face. Neville turned his head so that he could just see the cat out of the side of his vision.

"Maybe you should try it silently?" Neville offered up.

The match rolled a bit on the table. As much as Harry would have liked to believe it was something he had done, it was more likely caused by the slight angle of the table. He tried the spell a few more times in various ways before he got frustrated with the entire idea. Harry swung the wand about angrily as Neville attempted to get him to stop.

"Harry, STOP! You might break it," the boy stated as Harry used the edge of his wand to push the matchstick from the desk.

_'I don't understand! Why do I have a wand if I can't even use it?'_ His scribbled on a piece of parchment that he had jerked out from Neville's bag.

"Don't worry, you'll get it. How about we try again later? Anyway, I have that book. I figured now would be a good time to look through it instead of in the dorm."

Neville flipped through the book with one hand as Harry moved the phoenix wand about in an attempt to get it to spark, or do something. Neville rifled through the contents, ignoring the gruesome pictures displayed within the pages. He paused when he came to a section on spirit possession. Neville gulped loudly and Harry put down the wand and jumped to the table. He looked at the boy questioningly.

"Harry, this book says that wraiths feed on the minds of those who take them in. ...Are you eating me?" Neville questioned with a disturbed look.

_'I don't think so; I stole part of your breakfast this morning. Does that count?_' the cat scribbled as he controlled Neville's arm once more.

Neville shook his head,"I doubt it. ...and the cat was dead... So it didn't have a mind. Wow Harry, I think you found a loophole."

_'Of course I did,_' Harry answered on the parchment.

Neville rolled his eyes. Harry would put it in a way that made it seem as though everything followed one of his schemes.

"Huh. There are a couple of potions in here that allow one to see wraiths in people, but it seems kinda advanced for me," Neville frowned as he looked at the list of ingredients.

His student kit contained half of what was needed. The other items listed were common enough that Neville had at least heard of them. He supposed this potion wasn't popular, for how often did one come across wraiths?

_'Nev, anything that requires you to boil water and add things to it, is too advanced,'_ the cat wrote with Neville's left hand.

He doodled a little picture of an explosion as well.

"That's not very nice. It's not like I mean for those things to ! Don't push the potion cauldrons over anymore, Ron saw it and thought I was trying to murder him," Neville finished.

He gave the cat a dirty look.

_'Sorry, you know how I love the chaos you create. Huh, look at this, we can't do it anyway. We need some potion ingredients that you don't have,'_ Harry reponded with a happy face next to 'chaos'.

Neville remembered something else that Hermione had stated earlier in the hall.

"Harry? We need a new way for you to communicate; I'm already being questioned about the different writings. Also; I can't find the piece of paper with you asking about the imperious curse. A house elf probably tossed it out with the trash,…but still," Neville concluded with an uneasy shrug.

_'I don't know what to do about you using two arms. But is there any way for you to make it so only you can see it? Like a spell or something?'_

"Yeah, but that's not something we would learn in class."

It sounded like something Neville could get from a joke shop though.

_'So there are spells then?'_ Harry wrote out before he looked at Neville with curious green eyes.

"Uh huh," Neville nodded in affirmation.

_'Are there spells to make writing invisible?'_

"Of course, but if someone flips through an empty book, wouldn't that be their first guess?" it would be weird if he carried around an empty blank book.

_'Heh. Not if you write over the invisible writing with a different color. That way, you can read both when you make the first visible.'_

"Harry that's genius!"

_'No,'_ Harry wrote, as he purred contentedly, _'it's Slytherin.'_

_._

_._

"Um, Professor?" Hermione questioned hesitantly, as she leaned against the door way of his office.

"Hm?" the professor hummed in question as he looked up from the papers he was marking.

"I know that this might be something I should bring to McGonagall, but she's on an assignment for the headmaster.… So you seemed like the next best person to tell."

The professor gestured for her to continue.

"One of my House mates, Neville, well, he has this book that I told Ron about. We think it's a dark book. It's called _'Gain Dominion of the Weaker Minded', _have you heard of it? Anyway, I felt we ought to tell someone," she spoke as her hands fiddled with her bag.

Hermione looked down at the floor. She straighted her shoulders. She had to tell him the other thing as well.

"We also caught him writing about the Imperius curse. He seems okay now, but it was weird. He just seems so nice, it's just an odd thing for someone to randomly write about. He's not in trouble is he?" she asked anxiously, as she bit her lip.

" N-no. Thank you for b-bringing th-this to my atten-tion young Gr-Gry-ff-indor."

"You're welcome professor; I hope he's not planning to do anything dangerous." Hermione said before she closed the door softly and headed back to Gryffindor tower.

She smiled as entered the Gryffindor common room. Hermione felt lighter, telling Professor Quirrell removed the weight from her mind. She stopped and shook her bag.

_'I need more books,_' she thought.

.

.

Arghh, I keep wanting to write prefect as perfect and my laptop has more than a little ire for Quirrell the squirrel. If I add him to the dictionary, I know with my luck I'll probably end up writing a research paper about squirrels. XD

It's a bit raw, and I didn't look it over as much as usual; but here it is. I'm not so sure when the next chapter will be, but I will still attempt to have it done next week.

R/R please!


	8. Cheat

**Chapter 8: Cheat**

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Disclaimer: I don't own it, and purchasing the rights is not something I could afford with what I'm making now.

Thanks to everyone who left reviews: **Fk306 animelover, GenoBeast, koolthegrey, Greener, Pinnacle of Madness, Xardoth, hypercell, Bleudiablo, Shadowsdeep, and****MisterTabi!**

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.

**The First Step is Fatal**

Chapter 8: _Cheat_

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.

Many of the Gryffindor first years buzzed with excitement as the small group made their way to the broom flying class just outside the castle's stone walls. Those who had used a broom or had seen one in action regaled the other young Gryffindors with tales of high speed flying and highlights from favorite Quidditch teams. Parvati Patil attempted to get Ron to shut it about dangerous Quidditch maneuvers made by his favorite team, but he seemed completely oblivious in his excitement. His talk on high speed loopty loops had the muggleborns of the group, particularly those who rarely engaged in sports, turning a peculiar shade of green. Neville kept to the back of the group as Harry loped along next to him. Neville was not excited at all; he preferred his feet on the ground, thank you very much.

"Meower!" Harry vocalized, farther back than Neville had thought. He slowed as the group took a left down a hallway.

Neville turned around to see Harry frozen in the middle of the hall, staring at him with green eyes. Or over Neville's shoulder.

Harry hissed. His slitted eyes narrowed as he took a defensive stance. The cat's hackles raised along its spine adding an extra inch or two to his size. Sharp claws flexed in and out; he was clearly unhappy with something. The hair pricked up on the back of Neville's neck. The hallway had been entirely empty, except for the Gryffindors passing through. Even the portraits lining the walls contained only empty frames. Idly, Neville wondered who belonged in the frame with the Venomous Tentacula.

He looked back in the direction the Gryffindors had gone and did a double-take in surprise. Professor Quirrell had not been standing there before; Neville was mostly sure he would have noticed.

That left spell casting; the idea of professor watching him raised goose bumps along his sleeve covered arms. Neville took a step back towards Harry as he kept his purple wearing Defense Professor in view. He was starting to believe Harry's words from the first week of classes. The professor's hard gaze did not match his personality as a shy man at all.

Neville gulped. "Professor?"

"Mr. Longbottom. First flying class today isn't it?" The Defense professor stared unblinkingly at Neville's face.

Neville was not able to look away; his eyes were stuck on the professor's. Not because of any need to see Professor Quirrell's face. His eye felt glued in place. The edges of his vision blurred, and in the back of his mind, he could hear a small voice whisper. Neville found himself unable to make out the words. With each moment he felt increasingly queasy. Each moment the voice grew louder. Each second gone by felt as if a finger was pressing down harder and harder on the back of his head.

Neville could not take it anymore.

"Yes!" He shouted down the empty hallway, voice echoing off the walls.

The spotlight flicked off and the pressure disappeared. His right temple throbbed a bit; but it was better than the tight, squeezed feeling his head had felt a minute earlier. He rubbed at the tender spot, eyes to the floor. The Professor had brown suede boots on.

Quirrell clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, causing Neville to look up.

"Good. Let's hope you don't have any accidents, hm?" The professor turned to a window and smiled as he cast his gaze across the Hogwarts' grounds, lit up by the sun on this mid September day. The sparse trees decorating the grounds had begun to yellow.

Neville nodded quickly before he picked Harry up and sped by the professor as fast as his legs would go. He didn't stop until they were out of the castle and within seeing distance of the other Gryffindor first years. Neville wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the edge of his robe sleeve. He took in a large gulp of air before sighing in relief. His expression dropped quickly when the other Gryffindor students waved at him from afar.

_'I could bite you, and you could go to the infirmary instead.'_ Harry wrote out with Neville's arm when the boy had stopped huffing.

"Thanks, but I think they'd make me do this at some point anyway. Stay out of the flying area; I don't want you to get hurt." Neville said.

Harry ducked against the grass and slinked under a nearby bench like a predator stalking its prey. Neville walked stiffly over toward the group of students, palms slick and clenched into fists. The only available broom was situated next to Lavender Brown, who was talking up a storm to the student next to her, and a gawky looking Slytherin girl who introduced herself as Daphne Greengrass.

"Draco would stop bothering him if he just rolled with it." The Greengrass heir spontaneously said. Neville's eyes flicked over to the red-headed boy down the row. Ron was yelling at the top of his lungs about having a family with better morals, face the shade of a blood-flavored lollipop. The Malfoy heir just smiled, before giving the usual sarcastic reply.

Neville was silent for a moment as he watched the two boys argue. "Yeah, but Ron seems particularly irritated whenever Malfoy walks in the room or nearby. Is there any way to convince Malfoy to pick a different target or just stop?"

Her clear blue eyes blinked slowly before she impassively muttered, "No. Why? Their antics are at least somewhat amusing."

Neville looked at the shouting Gryffindor boy before he shrugged helplessly. Lavender, listening in to their conversation, giggled.

"Good morning class! I trust that your Transfiguration course is much better now that your real professor is back?" Madam Hooch said when she came close enough for the class to hear.

A collective moan from the group of students hung in the air.

"What? It can't be that bad." Madam Hooch said. She flicked her wand expertly through a complicated maneuver; Neville felt his body being tugged back slightly. Up and down the rows students moved until they formed two perfectly straight lines facing each other. Madam Hooch nodded her head in approval and pocketed her wand.

"She gave us extra homework!"

"The professor was angry; she blew up a desk after turning it into a goat! It might have still had feelings!" A high-pitched voice called out.

"Silence. Something good about the class would be nice to hear in the next moment." Madam Hooch said in a sarcastic tone. Students up and down the lines fidgeted.

"….Professor McGonagall can turn into a cat?"

"Oh yes! The laws on animagi are quite interesting for instance, did you know –" Hermione started to say.

"Weasley, turn the teacher's pet off," Blaise Zabini whispered from further down the line out of Hooch's hearing range. Hermione frowned and Ron shook an empty fist at the other boy.

"Hold out your dominant hand and in a confident voice, say 'Up!'" Madam Hooch said when she reached the end of the students.

The class followed her instructions with varying degrees of success.

Neville's broom remained still and he halfheartedly tried again. Five minutes in, everyone but Neville had been able to get their brooms to fly into their hands. When Neville was the last student still attempting to call his broom, he had had enough. When Hooch was distracted by questions about Quidditch, he quickly grabbed the broom off the ground. Hermione tisked in her spot across from Lavender.

"Everyone got your brooms to answer? Good." Madam Hooch stated as she looked to each nodding face.

"Mount your brooms like so, give a light push off the ground, hover for a moment and then land. Anymore than that and you are asking to help me polish the brooms afterward."

Students along the lines began to rise slightly, those more experienced were in the air before the riding instructor had finished.

_I must have picked the worse broom available, this one is not even responding. _He thought disgustedly. The last time he had been on a broom, with his Gran sitting behind him, he was pretty sure he had felt at least a tingle of magic. A vibration of life within the wood. Compared to that, this one was practically a brick. Malfoy was the first person off the ground, Ron not too far behind. Neville saw Dean close his eyes and kick off the ground till the broom raised up a foot with him clinging to it.

_Hm. It's now or never_.

Neville attempted to kick off the ground. It came out as a hop. He tried again, and found himself jumping in place. He got off the broom and held it up to his face, mouth pursed in confusion. It looked fine; from what little he knew of broom management.

"Neville, what are you doing?" Hermione asked from where she wobbled on her broom over the grass; her face paler than the ghosts of the castle.

"Trying to lift off. I think it's broken." Neville clambered back on the broom and kicked off the ground as hard as he could.

The broom jerked, and then shot off up into the sky. Neville's shout of surprise caught the attention of Madam Hooch.

"Mr. Longbottom, get back down here at once!" She hollered from the ground, wisps of grey hair moving in the newly generated breeze.

"Help! I can't control it!" Neville shouted. The broom started to vibrate and jerk up and down, like a crup shaking a beetle off.

As he held on tightly, he could see Madam Hooch point her wand at him; whatever she tried was ineffective; the broom started to spin. And then, it suddenly stopped. He was free falling toward the ground with the unresponsive broom clutched between his arms. Neville closed his eyes._'No, no, no, no!'_

A flash of pain, and he felt himself moving upwards. He was bouncing on something soft, but that did not stop the well of tears from creeping out as he clutched at his right arm lightly.

With a cry of anguish, his right hand released the broom – which rolled off the mattress Madam Hooch had transfigured from the ground underneath him when he had dropped.

.

"Hand me Longbottom's broom!"

The broom passed forward from student to student, each staring at it in shock as it passed by. Hooch eyed the length of the broom before she held it just out of sight and closed her eyes. Her brow wrinkled. She frowned. She pulled the broom closer and gave it a look over once more.

"This broom should not have been able to leave the ground. It's been tampered with."

Neville moaned in pain. White hot flashes of torture made themselves known when he tried to move it.

"Steady there. Mr. Longbottom, we will be heading to the infirmary, can you walk?" Neville attempted to get to his feet before he collapsed once more when he accidently jarred his arm. His face paled.

"Hm, I'll take that as a no. Hold tight Mr. Longbottom." she said. The grey haired witch pulled out her wand and cast a spell. Neville felt his body float upwards. He relaxed a bit at the familiar spell; Gran would often use it if he had injured himself outside.

"The rest of you stay put. It will not be in anyone's best interest if I've discovered that some of you gallivanted about the field without supervision."

.

Harry had darted out from his hiding place the minute he saw Neville plummet like a stone. He paced back and forth as he attempted to decide on whether he should follow the injured boy or not. To follow Neville into the infirmary wing meant that he would possibly witness the nurse setting the bone. He was sure Neville had broken it in at least one place when he had dropped from that height. Harry's ears flattened against his head.

If he stayed, on the other on the other hand, there was a slim chance of finding out who had caused Neville's crash. Neville's broom wanted him dead too much for it to be a simple accident. Someone would have to step forward with evidence for Harry to believe them though. Unless it was Quirrell. He was mostly sure it was Quirrell. At the sound of shouting, Harry turned to watch Draco and Ron argue about something frivolous once more.

"Malfoy!"

"Weasley!" Draco shouted back, Crabbe and Goyle stoically behind him. Pansy picked her broom off the ground and hurried to his side.

"You did something didn't you?" At this, Harry gave the boys his full attention and stared at the blond boy's face.

"I suppose I did. I ate breakfast earlier." Draco said airily. Harry shook his head to the side. Malfoy was not the one that had messed with Neville's broom.

"That's not what I meant!"

"Settle down Ron! He's just trying to make you angry." Dean said before Malfoy could get Ron furious enough to draw his wand.

"Need someone to fight your own battles, Weasel?"

Ron clenched his fists before he smirked at the other boy. "I could say the same to you. At least I'm not shielded by a girl."

Draco frowned and looked to his right. Harry trotted up just in time to see the blond Slytherin nudge Pansy out of the way. The blond Slytherin sauntered slowly to Ron until they were eye to eye, less than a foot in between them.

"At least I have prospects Weasley. You'll have to scrape through the muck," Draco said as his eyes darted to Hermione before he looked back at the redhead, "to find someone who would want you."

Ron's cheeks flamed and he swung a fist at Draco, who darted back quickly, missing the boy by a scant few inches.

"Ron stop!" Hermione said.

"Yes, stop Weasel. I've got a better idea; how about we settle this wizard to wizard?" Draco said as he hefted his broom and squinted down the edge of it. He looked up at the boiling Gryffindor, "first one around the field and back. Loser –"

"You're on!"

Harry stayed on the sidelines as he watched the red-haired boy dig through the pile of brooms for one that satisfied him. As far as Harry could tell, every broom in the pile looked old; the twigs pointed out every which way on many of them.

"No, Ron you can't." Hermione said. She tugged at the edge of his robe.

"Watch me!" Ron picked up one of the school brooms and brushed the twigs back into a point as much as he could.

"Hermione's right Ron, if you do this and get caught; we'll find ourselves near zero point-wise again." Parvati stood next to Hermione with her arms crossed and blocked his path back to Draco.

Seamus rested a hand on the red-head's shoulder.

"I hate to say it, but as much as I'd like to see you show him what for, the girlies are right." Ron wilted at Seamus' words.

He shrugged off Seamus' hand and slammed the broom down into the pile. He grit his teeth and crossed his arms, fists clenched tightly. Harry ducked as the broom rebounded over him and rolled away past the pile. Slow, steady clapping came from the direction that the broom had rolled in.

"Oh, bravo! That was a rather smart choice; I would have gone to the nearest teacher if you had decided to go for it."

"Who're you?" Seamus asked when an older boy glided over to the group. From Harry's view on the grass it looked like the boy was barely lifting his boots off the ground. He wondered if this new Slytherin boy had been taught to move like that or if he practiced in an empty room somewhere.

"Adrian Pucey, third year Slytherin, chaser, and so on and so forth." The brown haired boy said as he moved a hand listlessly about in a circle.

"Adrian! What are you doing out here?" Daphne asked when the boy stopped a few feet away.

"I was sent out here by Madam Hooch. She caught me in the hallway skipping History." He shrugged. "Said I wouldn't be docked points if I came out here and kept an eye on you little firsties. Too bad that other kid fell off the trick broom huh?" He smiled.

"You did that?" Hermione asked. The fingers of one hand covered her mouth and her eyes grew wide.

The older Slytherin shrugged again, and flicked invisible dirt off one sleeve. Harry watched him. Harry cocked his head to the side eyes narrowed at the older boy. _He did admit to it, and that's something I need to look into_. Harry still had his money on Quirrell though; the blighter was creepy.

The cat looked at the faces of the other first year students, and was surprised by the blank look on Draco's face. A few of the other first years looked doubtful at this fact, and it was Parvati that spoke up.

"I don't think Madam Hooch would have sent you out here if you did."

"Oh, but how would she know?" Adrian Pucey questioned with a lopsided smile. "Anyway, please put your brooms in this pile and…well, go do something in sight. Shoo."

The class degenerated into gossip as the girls of both houses meandered farther out in the field and separated in into smaller groups. Dean and Seamus dragged Ron away from the five Slytherin boys before he started something he would not have been able to finish. Half way through the class Madam Hooch showed up and the students of the two houses were given a chance to move about the field. Harry wished he could have participated, it looked like a lot of fun, once you got over the 'fall to your death' thing that Neville had failed in doing earlier.

Without someone hexing the rest of the brooms into crashing, the class went off without a hitch. Though the less daring students stayed near the ground. Harry found it funny that Ron and Draco's race about the field was firmly denied by Madam Hooch, who watched the two boys like a bird of prey as they puttered and sped about – "slower! This is for learning only!" and "don't take those turns at that angle, that's the easiest way to be shot from your seat!"

At the end of the class when the students learned about basic broom care, Harry decided on what he would do. He would follow the Slytherin first years down to their common room, in hopes of finding more information or to rule out student interference.

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_'I really think it was Quirrell, but just to cover all the bases…'_ Harry's thoughts trailed off as he followed the group of Slytherin first years down into the dungeons. The more time passed, the more He doubted it that any of the students had taken part in jinxing Neville's broom. Quirrell had been creepy enough just before the class took place.

The common room was in a different corridor today, the password had changed as well. He paid less attention to the password than where the door actually was, it was hard to see the marks on the wall from the floor. The snake did not appear when one of the boys tapped the wall. Harry tilted his head in thought when the door way appeared without the serpentine guardian. He wondered if it really only showed up the first night, or if this was just one of its off days. Harry figured every sentient seeming …thing could have good days and ones that happened to be bad as well.

The Slytherin common room seemed brighter in the daytime, when the light from the sun reflected down into the lake's cool waters, refracting light through the lake viewing wall. Fish swam to and fro; Harry thought he even saw something in the shape of a mermaid. Harry's head whipped away from the aquarium like wall and focused on the argument taking place between the group of first years and a few of the older students. With his tail moving in agitation, he trotted over to the couch and pounced onto one of the arms. His curiosity was piqued.

"When my father hears about this…" Draco muttered with his lip curled as he stood in front of the older boy who had supervised Madam Hooch's class earlier. Adrian Pucey lounged on one of the couches near the fireplace.

"Hears about what, firstie?" Adrian Pucey asked from the couch with eyes still shut.

"Someone hexed Longbottom's broom. We were there as well. I could have picked that one." Draco grabbed his wand and made a move to poke the older student with it, when it seemed that the older boy had fallen asleep.

The teen opened one eye and flicked the offending wand tip away from his body. "Well, guess it's a good thing you didn't then. It would have spoiled this image of grandeur you constantly play up."

"I will send him a letter! I will!" Draco shouted as he stomped a foot on the stone floor. Harry rolled his eyes, Draco was doing a fairly good impression of a low level Dudley Dursley tantrum; one where he was not given the exact sweet he wanted.

"News flash little first year. Adrian has it right; do you have any idea what kind of damage your dad could do? Why, none at all. Our parents are colleges as it were, for many years. You're just a bratty child, why would he ruin years of business on the whim of a child that couldn't see something unless it smacked him in the face?" The Slytherin Quidditch captain, Marcus Flint, said.

"But you said you did do it." Daphne Greengrass said from behind the other first year girls as she pointed at Pucey.

"Did not." Adrian smirked.

"Sure, but now the Gryffindors hate us." Tracy groaned. Harry was not surprised; of the bunch –she, Daphne and Blaise seemed the least confrontational compared to the other Slytherin first years. Millicent Bulstrode reached over and started to rub an itchy spot on the side of his neck; Harry purred at the contact. Millicent was, right now at least, his favorite Slytherin.

"Not different from any other year, Quidditch starts in a few months anyway. Or are you interested in joining them in their crusades against the big, bad Slytherins?" Adrian responded as he wiggled his eyebrows in a mocking manner. Flint laughed.

"Of course not!" Draco said.

"Should we get back at them?" Vincent Crabbe confusedly asked Goyle –who shrugged and turned to the aquarium wall.

"Nah, the Gryffs will cause their own damn trouble. Quidditch games are the only time we really act nasty." Flint grinned. Harry flinched at the sight of his horrible teeth. This one seriously needed to visit a dentist.

"But Professor Snape said–"

"The first year rousing speech? How's that going by the way?" Adrian chuckled before he folded his arms behind his head. He yawned.

"I've gotten a Weasley in trouble." Draco answered smugly.

"No way." Flint said before he rolled his eyes, "It must have been specifically hard; only half that house are Weasleys after all."

"You're interpreting what our Head of House wants, but really; it doesn't matter." Adrian said condescendingly.

"What are you blabbering about?"

"Hm. Can't tell. Wouldn't want a reputation of giving out free information – Information can be powerful, you know."

"You sound like a Ravenclaw."

"Perhaps that was my second choice. But maybe, little Malfoy, I just prefer selling information rather than hoarding it."

"Do not call me that!" Draco said as he attempted to look intimidating.

"Whatever. Point is, I won't give you anything for free."

"Tell me and, and I'll have father buy you something."

"Oh, now that's a nice offer." Adrian perked up, and leaned forward.

"So? What do you want?" Draco asked impatiently.

"Brooms. The Quidditch team needs new brooms. We already have the best team, but why play fair and equal? We're not matrys here."

"What?"

"Get the newest brooms for our team next year."

"Hang on. If I'm buying brooms then I want a spot on the team. Automatically." Draco tapped his palm in emphasis.

"For a new set of brooms? You have yourself a deal! A few spots will open next year; play well or you might find yourself glued to a wall." Flint shook the younger boy's hand.

Draco looked over at the Slytherin chaser. "So are you going to give me a hint, or did I only make it on the team?"

"Do something. Don't get caught. Don't tell. Is it really that important what he offers?" Adrian answered as he stood up.

"What? Of course it is. Who wants detention with one of those other horrid professors?"

"Honestly, the things I do. A real Slytherin would be the last one you would think to blame if something has gone awry. What's the point of killing someone if you get caught, right? The less people who know about what you've done the better. Keep your acts close to the fold. If you never get caught, why would you even need the professor to take over the detentions you didn't get?"

"…"

"Exactly. I said I rigged the brooms because, in the long run the professors know it wasn't us. Even if we had jinxed the broom, you're all ickle firsties far beneath us. There's nothing to be gained from screwing around with the lot of you but cheap satisfaction; there are bigger fish to fry." Adrian stretched his arms out and popped his knuckles.

"Now, I have a few Ravenclaws to visit about procuring smoke bombs. Those Weasley twins will be sure to try something in the week before our early November match. Toodles!" Adrian laughed and headed for the exit of the common room.

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After a harrowing adventure of Harry discovering that the distance between the two common rooms was quite large when one was a cat, he finally made it up the stairs to the entrance of Gryffindor. Harry shivered as he attempted to block out what he had seen on his 'adventure' to the Gryffindor common rooms. Apparently, the idea of everyone lowering their standards when no one was around applied to portraits as well.

As soon as Harry was let into the Gryffindor common room, he had meow plaintively to the fat lady until she was fed up enough to summon someone from inside, Harry had darted over to Neville. He jumped about until Neville got the picture; when they were alone, Harry spelled out his suspicion that it was Quirrell. His writing took up the entire piece of parchment as Neville's lower arm was covered in a cast and immobilized.

With no time this week to head to the library to search for a book that could possibly help him find away to regain a human form Harry had pushed Neville into getting some invisible ink. Unsurprisingly, it cost more than Neville had, and the last thing Harry wanted to do would be to wait until Christmas. A note of something he'd said could easily be picked up, leading to his capture or death. Neville was quite emphatic on the fact that possession of anything was a no in this culture, and after the other boy had read the small blurb about wraiths, Harry could understand why. The potion Neville had briefly mentioned sounded interesting, and it was something that Harry was quite curious to try. He had a few ideas on how to get the ingredients that were needed, but Neville didn't need to know right now.

"Harry, I don't think this is a good idea. I mean, I can't even write for the next few days." Neville doubtfully answered as he used his right hand to gesture to the cast covering his other arm.

With his left arm in a cast, Harry had been forced to smear ink on parchment with a paw saturated in dye; Neville had set out a bowl of ink on his nightstand. It was much easier to dip a paw into than the spills Harry would have to make. Good thing his fur was black, or his front paws would always be notably stained. Apparently, Madam Pomfrey had allowed Neville to leave the infirmary on the grounds of something that Harry wasn't able to wheedle out of the other boy. He had been lightly dosed with a variant of Skele-Gro, which Neville assure the feline that it was the foulest potion he had ever drunk. As Neville had only received a hairline fracture to his lower arm when he landed on it, he was given a pain potion along with the potion to restore the bone.

"Yowlr!" Harry said to get Neville's attention.

The boy stood in the center of the room lightly stroking the outer layer of the magic applied cast. A few of the muggleborns in Gryffindor House had scrawled wishes for him to 'get better soon' in reds and gold. Dean had taken it upon himself to draw a shaggy manned lion grinning with teeth that magically sparkled. Harry thought it was awesome; but Neville seemed perplexed as to why anyone would want to draw on a cast that would be removed the next day.

"I'm not sure what that means," Neville said. He scratched the side of his head. Harry lightly head butted him in the chest.

"Fine! I'm going!" Neville worked himself out of the comfy bed and left the empty boy's dormitory.

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The common room was filled with students of all ages loitering around in groups before supper. Many of the upper level students were hard at work study for OWLS or NEWTS held at the end of the year, if the talks weren't turning to Quidditch. It was an interesting scene – those who were into House rivalries were also strong followers of Quidditch. Neville himself was not much of a Quidditch watcher; his uncle used to get terribly annoyed when Neville would take naps during the games that he was taken to.

There, in the corner near the fireplace, two red-haired boys laughed in camaraderie with another Gryffindor student. The third boy was holding some sort of spider, most likely a pet tarantula or a live potions ingredient.

"Uh, excuse me?" Neville said to the back of one of the Weasley twins. The three older students turned to look at him before one of the twins nudged the other.

"Oi! Look George, a little firstie!" One of the Weasley twins said. Neville assumed that this one must be Fred.

"I see. What's wrong little Gryffie? Ronnie isn't causing any problems is he? He does rather like a good mystery."

"No! No it's not that. I was just wondering if you have any invisible ink? Ron said you both like pranks." Neville answered; his good hand clutching his cast.

"What Ho! We have a little prankster on our hands." Fred said with a hand shading his eyes as if looking into the far off distance.

"Let's show him the ropes! He's the first to take initiative so far!" The second twin said enthusiastically as he gently spun Neville back to the dormitories.

"Err, wait! I just wanted to know if I could get some ink off you. If you don't have any that's fine, I can ask someone else." Neville quickly said. He locked his feet locked in place, which did nothing to prevent him from sliding on the carpet as the older boy propelled him forward.

"Looks like you guys've got your hands full; I'll finish up the firework blast pattern. Maybe add in some badgers and eagles, yeah? See you both at dinner!" The other boy said. He grinned in the direction the twins had taken the first year before pulling out a sheet of parchment with a lion fighting a snake.

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"No, I –" Neville tried once more before the Weasley twins shut the door of the third year boy's dorm.

"We have some. But that's starting pretty high up!" One twin said, he had already forgotten which one. The other twin whispered while waving his wand about in a squarish movement; the door glowed lightly blue before achieving a semi transparent look. Both twins turned and began a rapid fire of questions that Neville really did not know how to answer.

"_Who_ are you going to prank?"

"_How_ are you going to prank?"

"What will you do to avoid being caught?"

"I..uhh?" Neville took a step backwards and bumped into a bed.

"See, you gotta have of this planned out! You wouldn't want to be caught by Snape would you?"

"No…" Neville said. It was one question he knew the answer to. He already figured he would be spending most of his weekends with the potions master dicing up bits of…things; he was quite green after his detention this past weekend.

"Or _Filch_! He'd string you up in the dungeons!" Fred or George? continued.

"So onward, to the lair!" The other redheaded boy said. He walked over to one of the other bedsides and tapped the right bedpost lightly with his wand. A 'thunk' echoed about the room as something heavy dropped from the bottom of the mattress and onto the rug covered floor.

"We've got invisible, color changing, perfumed, animating, odiferous, glowing, and one that rearranges sentences into dirty limericks." One twin said as the pair of them dug through the heavy trunk-like container after they had pulled out from underneath the bed. Strange colored bottles and broken quills were tossed out of the trunk as they rearranged its contents.

"All I need is invisible ink. Do you think I could pay you back at Christmas?" Neville stood behind them and watched in curiosity as the moved strange looking items from the trunk that Neville had never seen before. Unlabeled bottles contained colored liquid that shifted through the rainbow. A wrapped package labeled 'Caution: Dangerously Volatile!' landed near his foot and started smoking. Neville jumped when one of the twins shot a spout of water at it. Harry hissed at the soggy package before he moved to hide under one of the beds.

"We've got a better idea." The third year that had shot water from his wand responded.

"You see, young Longbottom, our brother–" The second twin said.

"Perfect Percy."

"Decided to go and tell our Mum–"

"_Dearest_ Mum."

"About a case of dungbombs hidden in Forge's trunk."

"Wait. I thought you were Fred?" Neville broke in as he pointed at the last boy who spoke.

"What a foul thing to ask! I'm George!"

"Sorry." It had been fifty-fifty. George was on the right, and Fred was on the left. He had this now. The way that they spoke led him to believe that they had discovered some sort of spell that allowed them to plan it out. Somehow.

"So 'e goes and tells our dear mum, about our itty bitty case of pranks, broke as they were." George said. He shook his head in fake disgust.

"And lands us in a fat lot of trouble. So we'll give it to you for free if you help us out a bit." Fred finished.

"What do you want me to do?"

"So glad you asked!" Fred and George said simultaneously before giving each other a look and diving back into the prank filled trunk.

"We want you to spice up his homework a bit. He's spelled his stuff against tampering from us."

"Maybe I should just try and get the ink a different way…" Neville was not interested in pranking anyone really. He moved toward the door.

"You run a harsh deal, firstie."

"Take your pick," Fred said. He gestured to the piles of pranks surrounding the half filled trunk.

"What are these things?" Neville asked; he made sure to avoid the package that had started smoking earlier.

"Deal sweeteners. Prototype things we've made in the past two school years."

"You've made all of this?" Neville questioned in amazement. The gadgets and potions were quite a feat for a couple of third years; if they worked, of course.

"Fred and I coin ourselves as inventors. Of a sort." The Weasley on the left replied smugly.

"Of pranks!" The other twin chimed in.

"Wait. I thought you said your name was –" Neville said confusedly as he pointed to the two boys with his good hand.

"Hm?"

"…Never mind."

"So… we've got some exploding light balls, a failure – we were attempting to make floating butterbeer flavored confetti pop out, for parties you know. A trick exploding snap deck –"

"It spurts out gold paint; you could play it before Quidditch games!" The second twin finished excitedly. Neville gave up trying to figure out which twin was speaking. Their mother must have used marking spells often in their youth. In the present as well.

"Ah, another failure. This one was one of the first prototype models of something we're currently working on." One Weasley said as he pulled out what looked like a live cricket from one of the piles; its legs flailed about helplessly. He pulled out a small black stone as well; which he handed to Neville. He placed the cricket on the table. When it was set on the surface, Neville could see that the imitation stopped at the way it looked. Its legs were not strong enough for it to lifted up and move.

"The 'noisy cricket' is what we call this one. It makes chirping noises when the other end hears voices. We were trying to make it repeat what was said on the other end, but it only spouts off static and chirps. Clicks come across pretty easily, though."

"It works as a good prank though; place this end near someone, leave the room. Make noises near this end, and startle the person inside." A Weasley twin pointed to the cricket, then the small circular ball.

"Yeah… not the best prank, but one day the future models will be pretty useful. We've switched ears for crickets though."

The second Weasley shrugged. "They still need work; the ear end keeps melting."

Harry jumped onto the table, darted forwards and snapped up the moving imitation cricket delicately between his jaws.

"Ha-Sable what are you doing?"

The small cat gave Neville a pointed look before he smoothly pounced on the nearest bed then to the floor. One of the twins futilely attempted to grab him before Harry raced out the door.

"Looks like your pet agrees. We have a deal?" The redhead still sitting asked with a raised eyebrow.

Neville's eyes darted between the two older boys before he tentatively asked, "Will his homework switch back when he turns it in?"

The last thing Neville wanted to do would be to ruin someone's marks. Especially someone who had been, for the most part, pretty helpful and forthcoming about answering any questions he had on school life here.

"We want to mess with him, not lower Perfect Percy's scores!" One boy said dramatically as he held a hand to his brow while the other simultaneously held a hand to his heart.

"Mum would roast us!"

"Do we have a deal?" The Weasley twins asked him at the same time. It had to be a spell they were using; no one would be this in tuned with someone else naturally.

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"Harry, why'd you want that piece of rubbish?" Neville asked later that night when the rest of his dorm mates were sleeping.

Harry jumped to the bedside table next to the bottle of invisible ink and cricket prank parts. He leaned down and made a clicking noise next to the small rounded stone. The cricket chirped a second later. Harry looked at Neville.

Neville shrugged his shoulders. "It makes noise. Are you planning on scaring someone? Fred and George said they'd give me some of the fireworks they're working on. Those seem like they would be scarier."

Harry's ears went back and he vocalized a few more times, interspersing short chirps and longer ones that the cricket repeated.

_'Chirp chirp chirp. Ccccchirp!'_ Harry looked up and canted his head.

"Nope. Still don't know what you're trying to say." Neville scratched the cast. One night of sleeping with it on and tomorrow his arm would be good as new.

Harry sighed. He knew it had been a long shot for Neville to guess, but he had hoped there had been an equivalent to it in the magic world. It did show up in plenty of muggle cartoons even though they had moved on to phones. His paws were going to get dirty and ink stained once more.

Harry swiped a piece of paper from Neville's hidden stash, stepped one paw into an ink filled bowl and scribbled on it.

Neville tilted the page to see what Harry had written.

_'We're going to learn a new language together. It's called Morse code.'_

* * *

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A/N - Hm. I just noticed that I had both Neville and Draco get manipulated by older students – totally didn't mean for that to happen, oh well. Eh, with the Morse code bit I'm not going to figure out the codes or anything because they will probably have to make it up - Neville is out of funds and Harry wouldn't remember any actual letters from cartoons. It would be extremely annoying to write out everything Harry says in it – So in the beginning, Neville will mistranslate to show some kind of learning curve and I'll mention chirps every once in a while. Next chapter should be Halloween (or at least in October), which will give me a chance to clear up a few things. I really don't want to switch to an adult's perspective, if I can help it.

Xardoth – I had planned on making the other houses equally good in their own way, but more so in the second year and third. I have plans for Hufflepuff at the very least, and I want to move them away from the squishy/huggy mentality that they are often portrayed as. I'm trying not to overload the first year too much with parts that could be put to better use later. As to the consequences if you mean Ron and Hermione accepting everything he does, well don't worry – that's going to change in the chapter with/after Halloween.

GenoBeast – Sounds like an interesting idea, less people would notice that way. :)

For the rest of you who reviewed – Thanks again, I hope this story continues to be entertaining!

R/R please, if you've got the time.


	9. Haunted

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

It's been a long time since I last updated, thanks for all the reviews on last chapter!

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**The First Step is Fatal**

_Chapter 9:_ Haunted

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The castle was alit with festive floating pumpkins glowing with mischievous grins, in the place of the normal candelabras. Halloween was Thursday and anticipation shot through the students as the day came closer. Many of the denizens of the castle seemed excited as well, decorations rose as if lifted by invisible strings to hang on the walls and ceiling near the charms classroom. Ghosts tore through packs of school children who laughed at their antics. Odd luminous globes floated in the lake produced by the merpeople. At night the lake glowed green. Professor Binns taught an exciting class on the history of the upcoming holiday.

In Herbology, they helped carve pumpkins for the professor. Dean's was the most popular amongst the muggleborns students for being the face of a popular muggle villain. Behind Professor Sprout's back, he held the carved pumpkin in front of his face, and told some other students in a breathy voice that he was their father. Seamus' pumpkin gained a nasty cut when his wand jerked in his hand as he laughed to the point of almost crying. Neville did not understand why it was funny and neither did Ron from the confused look he was giving the other students. Oddly enough, Hermione did not seem to find it funny either.

Transfiguration utilized pumpkins as well and Neville was proud to say he was one of the first to complete it. Professor Quirrell was suspiciously out with a cold, admist the students cheering for an early free period, Neville shivered at the thought of the professor preparing some dastardly plan.

Everyone waited for Friday, as it would be the part of the first three day weekend for students taking potions. It would be a Snape free day for many students, barring Slytherin, and Neville was certain many Gryffindors would spend their time hosting a celebration in the common room. He would have enjoyed his week as well, if the practical class had not been moved to Wednesday.

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"Longbottom, you fool! Can you not see that this portion calls for five sprigs of juniper?"

"I only added five Professor! I promise!"

"Five points from Gryffindor for lying to my face. You cannot fool a Potions Master, boy."

"I'm not lying. I counted out five and checked it and checked!" He wasn't lying and he knew it. Ron made a shushing movement with his hands in an obvious attempt to get him to shut up. But it was the truth, Neville had only counted out five.

"Then you are a moronic buffoon. Most children less than half your age can count to five."

"But I…" Dean stepped on his foot.

"Another point from Gryffindor." The other side of the room snickered. "Your potion is dark grey, indicating that the plant components are overbalanced; it has killed the reaction of the trundelbug eyes and gilled antelope fur." Snape leaned down toward the cauldron, nostrils flaring. "It reeks of juniper. You've added more than five sprigs. A zero for the day, and if you wish to repeat that you did not add more than five, you will be polishing the floor in detention instead of being at the Halloween feast." Snape gave him a look; Neville kept his mouth buttoned shut.

Harry nudged Neville slightly from his spot on the bench, before taking command of the Gryffindor's left arm, and flexing Neville's fingers one at a time. Snape's thin lips dipped even further into a black scowl as Ron smirked.

Snape glared harshly at the Gryffindors. "The next person to interrupt will find themselves missing something normally attached to your wrists," Snape said, looking into the eyes of each Gryffindor student.

A murmur went up from the Slytherins that surprisingly, was not snickering.

Above the slight 'plips' of bubbles popping from simmering potion assignments, Pansy said to Goyle in a loud stage whisper, "He means your fingers you oaf!"

Hermione's face looked like she had swallowed a toad. "Hands," she muttered to herself.

One of Snape's eyes twitched slightly and his arm spasmed before he whipped about toward the front of the room, aura of menace following.

A yellow glow appeared above Neville's cauldron and grew steadily larger, growing twisted flames that formed a sphere. He exchanged a look of horror with his tablemates, Hermione was already backing away, thick history book held out in front of her. Directly across the table Ron whimpered and backed up. Neville heard a steady hum coming from the light before he dove under table, quickly joined by Dean and Ron. From another lab table Seamus bravely tossed a bucket full of water in their direction, before yanking Lavender away. The few drops that landed sizzled to steam. Saturated with water, Neville hunkered down next to Dean, prepared for the inevitable explosion.

An explosive boom rocked the space above Neville's cauldron and the room flashed white. The professor cursed, and came to a stop right in front of Neville's cauldron once more. Neville turned his head and watched Ron peak over the desk before gasping and trying to get out as fast as possible. Neville's bag wiggled when Ron accidently kicked it in his attempt to get up; Harry popped out when Neville undid the flask. Murmurs of appreciation went up around the room as whatever had appeared in the flash of light began to trill and sing. Harry's ears perked up and he scurried out in front of Neville before the boy could move into Ron's vacated space.

"Meddlesome man. It is not working, try something else." Neville heard Snape mutter as he maneuvered himself onto Ron's bench. The glowing light wasn't one of accidents after all. He found himself face to face with what could only be a phoenix. With feathers aflame, the bird looked about the room and blinked its beady black eyes. Students from other lab tables walked over when they realized that the bird was not a harbinger to one of Neville's usual cauldron eruptions.

"A phoenix!" Hermione said in amazement. Dean was ferociously scribbling on a muggle pad of paper, the bird, outlined in deft strokes of black.

The bird gave a confused warble from the edge of Neville's cauldron as it searched about the room. Snape reached over and grabbed the letter from the phoenix who gave disgruntled toot before vaporizing into a condensed ball of flame. Snape's long yellowed fingers flipped the note around before he stated annoyed, "Is anyone by the name of Harry Potter in this room?"

No one answered, a few shook their heads.

Harry jumped up to the table and purred, black tail wrapping around his paws.

"No?" Snape asked in a dark tone, "Then get back to work!" The envelope to address to Harry Potter ignited between his fingers, cinders drifting to the floor.

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"Hey Harry, look! You've made it into the Prophet once more." Neville whispered two days later on a cheerful Wednesday morning, as he slid the newspaper off the table.

Harry snorted at the article accidently sending the cricket into letting out a chirp.

Completely unbeknownst to him, he was part of the relief effort provided by the IWC to the wizard community near Mount Pinatubo. '_Well. at least I'm seeing the world,'_ he thought, words dripping with sarcasm,. A group of wizards were fighting against a humanoid monster built of stone and lava in the supplied image. A boy ran in front of the group, face obscured by black hair. Harry sighed. That must be him.

"It's the Prophet," Neville said in a sympathetic voice. "Sometimes they make up their own sources, when nothing interesting is going on."

'Annoying,' Harry answered in Morse code.

Neville and Harry had decided to use the cricket only in times where it would look strange if Neville was seen switching his quill from hand to hand. And even in cases like this, Harry had to use short words; it was too hard for either of them if he attempted to compose longer messages without a sheet of paper and decoder nearby. They had had to make up their own alphabet after all, and even a month later they were still having accidents.

Accidents translated into Neville receiving some pretty odd looks from his classmates. But then again, he did have what looked like a bug stuck in his hair.

For once, the library had actually been useful. While they were still coming up with a blank on how to find a way for Harry to create a body or reinvigorate his old one – Neville was completely against making an inferi out of it – some students had pointed out a book with a basic silencer spell. It took a while to get the hang of it, but Neville had been able to silence the cricket so that he was the only one to hear it. The spell wasn't perfect; if anyone got within a foot of the device they would be able to hear it as well.

_And wouldn't that be amusing?_

A quick sticking charm applied to the stone end and Harry had an ugly new collar bauble.

Harry snickered at the cricket dangling just above Neville's ear. All attempts the boy had made to hide it from view failed. One of the Gryffindor boy's spell attempts had caused the bug to move frantically every once in a while.

When Neville had visited the Weasley twins for help they, quickly told him to stop. From what Harry could understand, the magic device was very finicky. Too much magic angled at doing different things caused the spells to merge in new and unpredictable ways.

As it was, Neville's new hair accessory attracted a lot of attention. Harry's friend already had a reputation for being odd in all four houses among the younger students. Fred and George just thought it was a riot.

The black haired blur moved back into the photograph just as the lava monster barfed up magma at a wizard spelling water around it. Harry painstakingly chirped 'stupid newspaper' at his place on the bench, in the hope that Neville would be able to translate it out correctly.

"Well, of course it is. Gran always says it's just a propaganda machine for the Ministry. I'm a bit surprised they haven't mentioned you as a correspondent of Fudge." Neville buttered a toast point.

Harry meowed just as Neville raised the toast to his mouth. The cricked buzzed with static and writhed in its stuck spot. The boy dropped his toast and slapped a hand over the mechanical insect.

"Ah- hey!" The boy shouted when Harry stole the piece of bread.

They still had some bugs to work out, but Harry planned on using his advantage for as long as possible.

The Hufflepuffs, as one, arrived to the breakfast table. It was an oddity of that house that the others ignored or just accepted as common place; Hufflepuffs being the house of hard work and friendship after all. But to Harry it all seemed rather strange as it happened on schedule, everyday. For the most part, the other three houses trickled down to breakfast in small groups. It was rarely seen by the majority of Gryffindor, who tended to come down in the last twenty minutes. Neville himself had always been an early riser and was loath to stay in the dorms or common room early in the morning. Being the boy's 'pet', Harry came down at the same earlier time. The other two houses seemed to have the same sort of showing as Gryffindor; though Harry suspected the Ravenclaw common room was not filled with a large group of students furiously working on homework due later that day.

Harry was intrigued. With anything odd really, but this was just one of those things he vowed to find out at some point. The hat was right in that he had a unique perspective– especially when combined with his curiosity.With that, he poked Neville in the side and darted to the arriving Hufflepuffs.

Interesting or not, they all seemed to be in order by year and gender, girls on one side and boys on the other. It was also good practice for him and Neville to work on their form of Morse code. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neville pull out his Herbology text and a sheet of parchment.

He jumped down from the table, lightly landing on stone floor and scurried forward along the side of the Gryffindor table.

A clustered group of Hufflepuff students, no older than third years, whispered animatedly to themselves a few in their group would turn to look at an older boy with glazed admiration. From the floor, Harry could hear their voices raise excitedly.

"Did you see Cedric last night? That was amazing. I can't believe he was able to do that. He'll totally get the position! McConkey must have been lax this summer. Poor bloke, beaten out by his reserve."

"He's been gunning for the position since second year."

"Is he any good? I fell asleep."

"Diggory's the best seeker on the field right now. As one of our reserves, he's practically an unknown."

"Expect the cup this year, boys."

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Neville wrote out each letter Harry spelled out using a key that they had come up with in the front of his herbology book. As it was his favorite class, and he liked looking through the book, it seemed a handy way to keep their code nearby.

"Where have you been all our lives, you little laugh generator?"

"Wha-?"

"Really Fred, we should tie some fireworks to this kid that shoot out when he says the most awesome things."

"You two seem to be down early; got something planned?" Neville looked at the two boys as they attempted to demonstrate innocence refined.

"Ron isn't up yet, so we figured that now would be the best time to break our fasts before he comes down and inhales it all."

"The house elves would just put out more you know." Neville replied with a scrunched up brow. The ones that belonged to the Longbottom family were quick to replace Uncle Algie's after dinner bowl of kelpie scales and chocolate.

"Never change little firstie, never change." George laughed.

"Well, change enough so that you will actually use these fireworks, we know you weren't too into pranking Percy. So as a concession, we want you to be one of the first to try these out."

"Did that emergency fire in your dorm have anything to do with the creation of them?" Neville tentatively questioned as held the package aloof by one corner.

"Got it in one!"

"Poor Lee, it accidently lit his dreads on fire. Some hair growing potion we swiped from our cauldron in potions a week before that had him right as rain!"

"Wait you guys stole a potion from Professor Snape? Are you mad?" Neville whispered nervously, fingers curling around the edge of the table, as if the professor was nearby.

"Not mad, just awesome. Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if we weren't the only ones to swipe something from 'ole Snapey the Snakey. You just got to have good timing."

Neville shifted in his seat. "I think I'll keep my skin thanks. I have detention often enough."

"Still?" Fred's eyebrow raised. "You haven't figured out how to fly under the radar then?"

"Last week I followed the steps exactly, and it still erupted. It's gotten to the point where my table partner is the last Gryffindor to class." Neville fell forward and rested his head on the table.

"Well, buck up. You'll get it soon."

George slid a small parchment wrapped pouch across the table. "Here, we're planning on setting a few off on Halloween, see how it goes."

Neville poked the package lightly with one finger.

"Wait. You haven't tested these yet?"

A huzzah went up over a portion of the Hufflepuff table.

"Wonder what they're happy about?"

"Their new seeker is supposed to be pretty good."

"What new seeker?"

"Um. Cedric. Cedric Diggory." Neville said, looking at the scribbles in his note pad.

"Why those little sneaks! Figuring that they could wait until their first match to put out that information, hm?"

"Won't do them any good."

"We've seen some of his moves." Fred rubbed his chin. "Life saver you are– with this Wood will keep off our backs."

Percy tutted.

"Can I see this?"

"Oh, yeah. Here."

"What a surprise. I had wondered where the headmaster has been." Percy pointed at the background of the picture on the front page.

"But that article is about Harry Potter."

Percy tapped one of the wizards in the photograph of the imposter Harry Potter and pushed it over to Neville.

"As part of the international board and one of the strongest wizards of this age, its no wonder they sent him there." Percy frowned. "He's neglecting his duties here and to the minister. He ought to step down and stay in England."

"Ah." Neville politely affirmed.

Percy gave him a look, eyebrows raised a fraction. "You would do best to stay away from Fred and George, I won't over look your antics if you get involved with them." Harry, who arrivied back at the table in time to hear Percy's statement, sniffed in disapproval.

"I won't!" Neville said to the other boy.

Percy's eyebrow raised in disbelief.

Neville, not wanting to start any trouble, nodded weakly to the other boy and ran off to his first class.

Twenty minutes early.

* * *

A/N: A very long time since the last update and it is a bit shorter. I've had it done for a while but haven't posted because I was hoping to do some major editing on the early chapters; fat lot of good that did as I really hate editing huge chunks of text it feels like work. And I already do work when spending hours at a time making daggers in Skyrim. :P  
Honestly, I'm going to stop making promises with chapter updates as every time I do something new happens – RL job, second job, games, lack of wanting to write, etc.

Chapters from now on will be shorter so I can manage them easier – that's one I won't break for sure.

As a side note- If you have not heard anything about **SOPA **an act that could be voted into a new law, educate yourself. It will majorly screw up free speech on the internet if it passes.

R/R please.


	10. Hunted

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

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**The First Step Is Fatal**

_Chapter 10_: Hunted

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'_Lumos_!' Harry thought hard as he failed once more in producing any significant source of light.

"Ouch! Claws Harry!"

'Sorry.'

"It'll heal up. You sure no one will notice that I'm not down at the feast right now?"

'Probably not.'

"Well I want to show up by desert, I'm looking forward to the fudge."

In the dark windowless classroom, illuminated only by a few near burnt out candles, Neville wrote senseless entries into the diary using normal ink. Many of the fake entries were on the same mundane topics; tangents on favorite dishes, plants growing, and the like.

He was almost…

"Finished! I just need to write a few more sentences on my Transfiguration homework and then we are going down to dinner – dessert! All the candies and chocolate I can eat!" The boy said as he excitedly pulled out his homework with one hand and anchored it to the table with the diary-cum-paperweight.

Harry made a noise of agreement before he continued to attempt magic spell work.

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"Where's Neville?" Hermione questioned from her spot next to Ron at the Gryffindor table. The main courses had disappeared, and heaping piles of desserts now stood in their place. Hermione pushed the last of her carrots around her plate with a fork.

"Dunno. Why?" Ron passed the plate of treacle tarts to Seamus, who loaded his plate.

"Because. He's the only one not here." She said as if this was the only reason necessary.

"Well I don't know. I've been forced to _practice_ levitation charms all day." The red-haired boy said around a mouthful of pie.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you had just followed my instructions the first time, you would have been done hours ago."

"Well, I was pretty sure it was going to work my way." Ron took a drink of his bubbling pumpkin juice, voice clear now that there was nothing in his mouth.

The fog drifting down from the rim was a nice effect. Her parents had created the same effect last year through the use of dry ice. Hermione suspected the wizards didn't use dry ice though. She missed her parents. A lot.

_Perhaps I'll write a letter home later tonight, about the differences of the how this holiday is celebrated. Yeah._ Decided on what she would do, Hermione perked up once more. She turned to her redheaded friend to ask how he celebrated the holiday at home, when she noticed he was joined by two of his brothers.

The disruptive ones.

Her lips quirked downwards a little in disapproval.

"Where've you two been?" Ron asked, his mouth stuffed with chocolate cake.

"Nothing you should worry your little head about," the twin in the blue pullover said with a lopsided grin.

"Yes, brother dearest, we're a mite bit bothered by your sudden lurch into academia," the other said, eyes flicking over to her and back. She rolled her eyes; they were generally very funny and kind, but they also could be nuisances in the way of preventing Ron from finishing his school work on time with their crazy plans.

"You mean Hermione? My good grades have made mum happy; besides, it's not like you've given me a chance at cracking out some pranks." The younger brother retorted.

"Ron! You'll get into trouble. And you two, didn't you learn a lesson from that explosion in your dorm? Angelina told us all about how you both de-haired Lee Jordan." Hermione spoke up before they could answer.

"Angelina's been talking about me?" Both twins perked up before turning to the other and shoving. To Hermione, it was like watching someone fight a mirror.

"No, she was talking about me!"

"I'm the eldest!" Ah. This one was Fred. In her effort to learn more about wizarding families she had asked Percy.

"You came out backwards!" George shouted in his brother's face.

"All the better to thumb my nose at you little brother!" Fred said poking his brother in the forehead.

"Thanks for telling Wood about Cedric, guys. I really wanted extra practice." A sarcastic feminine voice spoke up from further down the table.

"Hello Angelina!" Both boys waived in unison. Hermione could see Angelina roll her eyes and speak with the girl next to her.

"Did you see that? She thinks we're weird because of you."

"No, you!"

"Boys! You're both odd," Hermione said.

"Coming from her that's a compliment." Ron pointed out in amusement.

"No it is not! They shouldn't pull pranks; they could hurt someone else. And where is Neville? He should be here by now!" Hermione's frustration with the entire situation grew.

The twins were whispering to each other again. When one of them burst out laughing she groaned and dropped her head on her arms.

Red-headed wizards would be the death of her sanity. She was sure of it.

"What? Why are you laughing?" Ron pleaded with his brothers, eager to know what was funny.

"Oh, Ronnikins. For the same reason we're saddened by you lack of prank ability." One of them said with a slight smirk.

"Neville's the little first year after our blackened hearts." George added.

"Indubitably. We saw him carting himself up to the third floor corridor." Fred leaned in closer to Hermione and Ron. He winked as he whispered, and Hermione just knew he was telling the truth.

Neville was going to get them all in so much trouble.

"I suspect we'll be seeing some fireworks in the stairwell tonight!" The other brother giggled as if this was a _good_ thing.

"No, he wouldn't do that. Neville's too nice." Ron said flatly. Seamus, who had overheard the entire thing nodded in agreement.

"Underneath that charming jelly-like exterior a volcano of butter beer is just waiting to erupt!" Fred said as his twin made hand motions of an erupting volcano.

That was the last straw. Hermione stood up from the table and adjusted her sweater before looking toward Ron and Seamus.

"Well, I'm going to go stop him. Anyone coming?" She asked authoritatively, hoping they would hop to it.

"'Mione, there's candy." Ron moaned still sitting at the table.

"Well, none of it is sugar-free!" She gave a disapproving huff before leaving the feast unnoticed by the professors merrily feasting at the head table. On her way out she accidentally bumped into Professor Quirrell, to whom she made her apologies to. She quickly continued on her way to the third floor.

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'Did you hear that?'

"Hear what?" Neville asked as he dotted the last 'I' in his Transfiguration homework. His stomach rumbled and he knew he had missed dinner. He didn't care too much though. He only wanted dessert anyway.

_'Somebody was yelling.'_

"No – I" Neville began before a faint scream echoed into the room.

The sound of stone and wood grinding together caused Neville to pale as his imagination went wild with what was happening.

"Someone's in trouble!" Neville whispered as he sped over to the door.

'This is a school, let the teachers deal with it,' Harry replied from his spot Neville's shoulder. His fur stuck up in numerous directions, he seemed quite agitated by the noise.

"But. Harry. No– It sounds like someone's really in trouble. What if they need help?"Neville cracked the door open and placed an ear to it.

'From a first year?' He didn't need to look at the cat to feel sarcasm wrapped up in the cat's reply.

Harry was right though; there wasn't much he could do. His fist clenched the door as the floor continued to vaguely rumble beneath them.

"Anything's better than nothing." Neville frowned when another panicked shout echoed down the corridor. His fingers twitched of their own will and he found it hard to breathe normally.

"I need to see what's happening." He decided firmly.

'Don't!' Harry clicked out in panic.

Neville reached up and gently grabbed the cat on his shoulder and lowered it to the floor. He placed the wand in the cat's collar, so he wouldn't accidently snap it if things to a turn for the worse outside the door.

"Stay here Harry; it would be too dangerous for you to go, you might get hurt. Anyway, what if Professor Quirrell is attacking another student? I need to find out what is going on – someone might be after the stone."

With grim determination, Neville took a deep breath, hoping to steady his nerves. He put his hand on the doorknob and pushed it open.

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When the door was open, revealing the eerily empty hallway, Neville darted as quietly as he could out the door. He left it open a crack for Harry to nudge his way out if he needed to. He stumbled into the hall, tripping over a piece of wood, and gawked at the state of the passage way.

In the center of the corridor, a thick wooden door lay twisted and splintered, heavy iron nails and hinges scattered. An oily substance had spattered the rock walls, dripping downward to the grimy floor. Neville gagged. The hallway smelled like rot and mold.

"H-hello?" Neville whispered in the hall.

Just around the hall near the stairs he could hear a familiar female voice frantically calling out spells. He darted forward, intending to help– and stopped with one foot forward at the sound of a strange snuffling noise in the dark empty doorway.

Dark liquid ran down the paved stone floor where the door had been ripped off. Neville squinted in the darkness looking for any movement. He gave up when a flash of color zoomed into the corridor and impacted a wall brightening the area with a haze of light.

A monstrous nose appeared in the dark and he squeaked when it moved back inside, making way for two large dog-like paws that began to dig at the door frame and rock walls. Pulverized rock and splinters basted into the air as the beast scrapped it from the walls. Neville raised his arm shielding his face from debris.

The light went out suddenly. The monster continued to widen the door hole.

Neville skittered off to the far wall and hoped the large paws couldn't reach him. He blindly clung to the wall as he moved to the sound of spell fire.

Closer to the staircase, the sounds of distressed spells were louder. Neville peeked around the corner and his stomach dropped in fear – it was Hermione.

He had to help her.

Forgetting about the canine monster, it was stuck where it was, he ran to base of the staircase ready to help her fight off the large troll between them.

_Uh oh._ Neville thought. He had read about trolls but he had no idea of what would work against it. All he had was the element of surprise. The tall gray troll was focused on Hermione with its back to him.

His mouth hung open when he realized just how big it actually was; and words his grandmother would have smacked him upside the head raced through his mind.

It seemed injured; thick dark green blood leaked from gashes scored across its back and limbs while Hermione fended it off with some sort of blocking spell. It must have been fighting the dog beforehand.

Hermione's face paled when she noticed Neville at the bottom of the stair case.

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_He can't do it by himself you know this._ _Who will watch his back when something enviably goes wrong?_

This school is more than just an ordinary school; there are more than bullies lurking behind these walls. Harry berated himself as he paced in front of the door.

_Should I? _

_No he doesn't need help from me._ He thought, as he turned back the way he had come.

_I wouldn't be able to help anyway. There's nothing I can do._ Suddenly, his ears perked up.

_I could try to go get help; there might be someone else on the third floor!_ He could do that! With a game plan in mind he yowled his satisfaction.

Harry wormed his way past the door and out of the room as fast as his furry paws could carry him. Past the dog ripping into stone wall.

Past Neville watching the battle taking place on the stairs and around the corner to the second stairway – this one going down.

There were plenty of people in the Great Hall, and Harry was sure he could convince at least one person to follow him.

So focused in run down the stairs, he tripped. He rolled head over heel down the last few steps coming to a stop when his body tangled with a set of dark robes.

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"Stay back!" she shouted frantically; at him or the magical creature he didn't know.

He gripped his wand tightly. He had to do something, he just didn't know what. He wished his parents were here, before their accident. His gran said that his dad could have fought off anything.

Neville bit his lip. He would try his best.

The wand quaked in his trembling hand. His mind blanked on a good spell to use, the staircase crumbled and groaned under the weight of the troll as it step up toward Hermione.

If he just could get the troll off, the staircase would be able to finish its movement. Distracting it toward him was his only idea.

The stairway itself wobbled slightly to either side as if still choosing where to go. It was very unfortunate for Hermione, who was cornered at the top where the stairwell would have connected to either the fourth or fifth floor.

The troll raised its massive club and brought it down on toward the hunched girl. Neville sucked in a pained breath just watching, knowing that the body below the strike would be pulverized.

The dust cleared.

His eyes widened just as the troll's did.

The club had smashed into stone banister dropping bits of stone to basement levels far below. Gryffindor still had all of its students! Neville almost cheered.

Hermione coughed from her position on the step, folded and crouched against the side.

She raised her wand and shot a blast of something at the troll, only to have it reflect off the troll's hide and tear a picture frame apart.

"Hermione! The troll's skin is resistant to damage!"

"Neville! Tell me something I don't know!" The stressed out first year yelled back.

"S-sorry!"

"Don't apologize! Just help, please!"

"Okay!"

Neville held his wand high and tried a few spells he had learned.

The troll grunted when the dirty vest it wore disintegrated into thread. Neville whooped with glee. Hermione continued to incant spells – never stopping as each one was reflected or didn't work at all.

_Oh._

He finally realized what Hermione was doing; going through every spell she knew systematically in an attempt to throw it off. Varied colors of lights reflected off the troll as each failed to have any impact.

He ducked in time to miss a spell shot that looked like one they had learned in charms a month ago.

Neville wracked his brain; Hermione was a muggleborns and going through spell after spell that they had learned in class and a few, like that barrier that they hadn't. She was clever enough but even she couldn't have learned many spells outside of class in the last two months.

The step the troll was standing on turned slippery and it dropped back a step, before smashing it clear.

There was a spell that he had seen Uncle Algie use once – Neville winced. If his aim wasn't true he'd hit Hermione and kill her for sure. The rabbits his uncle had cast at had gone flying after all; along with half of the garden.

The troll raised its club high once more and it waivered as if actually aiming this time.

Hermione's spells became a frantic mess of flying colors aimed at its eyes.

The troll grunted angrily, thick snot dripped down its face; Neville saw the club come down in slow motion.

He attacked.

"_Bombarda_." The word passed between his lips like an angry beehive of power. The troll smashed into the ledge and its club went flying.

Neville licked his numb lips as the troll looked at its empty hands in a stunned confusion.

It roared.

The grey skinned monster scooped the girl up swiftly and tossed her behind its back toward Neville.

Hermione screamed as she flew through the air. She waved her wand in front of herself and shouted the very thing they had been working on in charms class for the past week.

It worked.

Sort of.

Neville flinched when the slower moving girl hit the stone wall then crashed to the floor in a heap a few yards to the left of him.

"Hermione!" He ran over to her downed form and lightly shook her shoulder. Unbeknownst to him, the troll slowly ambled back down the stairs.

"Please wake up!" He touched her head, his fingers came away with red on them. He had no idea what to do.

The floor vibrated from heavy impact. He looked up and the angry troll was upon them. He cast the blasting spell once more; but his luck had failed, the troll barely moved backward.

Neville dashed away from the troll and girl, shouting to gets his attention.

The long grey face turned toward him and Neville smiled at his success.

Until he stumbled backward and fell over.

On the ground now, and within stepping distance of the troll, the monster seemed to decide that Neville was a bug, and tried to quash him with a giant foot.

The boy on the ground dodged around massive pounding feet by rolling to and fro. When he had enough momentum going he rolled to his feet and brandished his wand like champion.

Neville's eyes widened when he realized he was holding nothing but air. Somewhere in the rolling he had lost his only weapon.

The troll snatched him up before he had a chance to search.

_I'mgoingtodie. I'mgoingtodie._

He closed his eyes as the beast slowly raised him up as if to examine the strange little creature he had caught.

Neville peeked with one eye open and was face to face with bulbous yellow eyes and nostrils leaking gooey snot.

About to die and his heart beating a faster that the growth of a _hackizore latvium_, Neville chuckled hysterically and bid the monster hello.

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"Get out of there, cat!" A voice came from above.

Harry untangled himself from the offending black cotton robes and yowled a protest back.

_I don't have time for this._

Harry popped up and bit the man on his hand.

_So gross._

When the man began to curse and swat at him he let go and began the two story-climb up the auxiliary staircase he had partially rolled down.

_I'm coming with help Neville! Just hold on! _

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Neville was not enjoying his stay in the hands of the troll, and while it seemed bemused to the fact that it had caught a second child in ten minutes; it seemed quite satisfied to slowly clench and unclench its hand.

He shoved his arms down in an attempt to fight back against the grip that was slowly squeezing him like a stress ball.

"Urgh, stop!" He shouted desperately.

His fingers wriggled as it finally became too painful.

Something was poking him in the side, and he realized that he had Fred and George's fireworks still in his pocket. He had meant to bring them down to the twins tonight!

If he could set them off, the troll would surely let him go!

Terrified by his vision beginning to get fuzzy around the edges and afraid his ribs were about to snap he struggled frantically to pull the fireworks out.

But to no avail.

Neville looked into the trolls face realizing that he was about to be squished like a grape at any moment.

He didn't want to die, but it seemed as though he and Hermione would if help didn't arrive soon.

_Was it too much to ask for a lucky break?_

One soon arrived in the form of a small, furious black cat that climbed up the troll like it was a tree and proceeded to yowl and spit while trying to take the troll's eyes out.

* * *

_TBC_


	11. Action

**Disclaimer**_**:** I don't own Harry Potter._

_A/N:_You all are awesome, thanks for reading and review the last chapter. Enjoy!

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**The First Step is Fatal**

_Chapter 11:_ Action

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When Neville fell to the ground he sucked in a deep breath of air. It had never tasted so good, but he didn't have the time to truly appreciate it as he scrambled backward away from the monster trying to rip the young cat off its face.

Harry ducked and dodged around the troll's scalp sharp claws giving him purchase in the thick wrinkly troll hide.

The first year Gryffindor watched in bewildered satisfaction. The troll tried to deal with his much more speedy annoyance, but was failing miserably. Sure, Harry wasn't able to pierce the thick hide, but seemed to be quite annoying. He could probably get at the eyes if he wanted to though.

_What was I – Oh! My wand!_

Neville quickly scanned the ground, his wand had to be here somewhere.

There! It had rolled up against the wall, in the shadows where it almost blended in with the dour grey stone.

He took a shaky step towards it, then another; breathing became easier as his body reacquainted with empty space instead of gnarly troll fingers.

The troll made a noise that Neville had only heard once; the sound of a newt inflating. Or a troll finally fed up with pesky cat dancing on its skull. The grey skinned monster had begun to slap at its head with its massive hands.

Whumph! Whumph!

"Jump off!" Neville shouted in panic. Harry would be smashed as thin as parchment!

The black cat heeded him and sprang towards him, green eyes flaring as he moved through the air.

The troll swung at its miniscule opponent and missed, greasy palm slapping into the wall. It bellowed loudly, before turning to Neville.

The troll narrowed its eyes, and Neville knew it wanted to pound him into jam.

The first year student's heart dropped in his stomach when he looked toward his wand. He'd never make it. With the troll staring straight at him, his body began to quake. Overwhelmed with fear he could only move backward as it came closer.

Pin pricks of water dotted the sides of his eyes; his mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts and he fumbled through the blaring panic.

Neville gulped. "Please." He implored as he moved backward either to the troll, Harry, or someone who wasn't even there he didn't know.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

As his fingers ran themselves around a small round parcel, Neville his fear left him.

He wasn't finished yet.

The troll still stalked him in a calm rage. It roared when the area lit up with dazzling colors from the easily triggered fireworks the twins had given him.

Splashes of red and gold fizzed, a miss-formed badger reared from a patch of white sparkles. A blur of blue shot to the ceiling and vanished.

While the troll tried to cover its eyes from the blinding lights of house colors and – though they didn't seem to be complete - creatures, Neville squinted as he tried to find his wand.

His hand touched the wall and he stumbled – his foot impacted something squishier than rock.

_Sorry Hermione_, he thought.

The lights were fading now, almost merging together in one spot on the floor. Neville frantically search the ground while blinking, the fireworks had blinded him as well. The spots from his eyes faded and he looked up to gage the monsters disorientation. He gasped as the troll blinked; Neville was running out of time. A furry body had met his hand.

The troll turned to him - his arm went numb, and his wand rose in the air, only this time not of his own doing.

The fireworks exploded into a blast of green accompanied by the sound of a hissing cobra and its shape. The tail was wonky, all bent at angles but it was for sure a snake.

The hair on the back of Neville's neck rose as the air seemed to get a bit colder. Next to his head the small cat perched and made a very distinct hissing noise – like an angry animal hissing out every syllable of the word 'sausage'. It was a moment that burned into his memory.

The wand tip exploded into a ball of light, and he squinted against the brightness. The troll, already light blinded bellowed as it tried to shield its sensitive eyes. It took a step back and the cracked railing groaned under the weight. A triumphant howl came from behind him. Neville grimaced. He forgot this wasn't the only monster on this level.

A shout to his right, "_Defodio!"_

The stone floor beneath the troll caved as if carved out by a massive butter knife. On unstable ground the troll pitched backward taking with it the small part of balcony as it toppled over the edge.

A boom echoed in the distance.

Neville blinked.

He patted himself down and touched his face. Everything seemed to be in place, his side hurt a little but it was rapidly fading.

"Huh. I'm alive." He blinked again. Neville smiled, and threw one fist in the air, "Haha! I'm not dead!"

"Oh, you will be soon." A sinister voice said. Neville flinched, it sounded exactly like his horribly angry potions master – the boy turned his head. _Oh, look. It is._

The black beady eyes of his Potion's Professor seemed to give him a once over before turning to the body next to him.

The tall black robed professor raised his wand, and Neville stepped between them unconsciously.

"Move. Now." Professor Snape hissed out like his house mascot. Harry was better at it though. It hit Neville then, and he laughed a bit hysterically.

The professor made a motion as if to pull him out of the way, but Neville was already moving on his own lost in his thoughts.

_No way. There's just no way. How could he – I mean that's incredibly – what_.

Neville held a palm to his forehead to quell the oncoming headache while the professor hovered his wand over the downed Gryffindor's body and made a few snide remarks about "following bedtimes and not sleeping in books."

Neville leaned against the cool wall and slid down it.

_I just have to accept it. My cat is a person, it can't be that much of a long shot. He was able to cast after all. My cat is a person – and that person might be a parselmouth._

"The spell worked you know." Neville said blearily out loud. Snape grimaced and made a face as if the boy was off his rocker.

The small cat knew otherwise and purred his happiness.

_Uhgh._ Now that the excitement was over his body was beginning to shake.

"Longbottom what were you doing here?"

Neville looked at the professor in confusion.

"You weren't at the feast." The teacher added with a raised eyebrow.

"Wanted to finish my homework. Then sweets." He mumbled out. The Potions professor gave him an appraising look.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, _probably to give me a detention,_ Neville thought - stones rumbled from the hallway.

"Uh oh. I guess it's gotten out." Neville said to himself.

"_What's_ gotten out?" The Professor said slowly as he grit his yellowed teeth.

Neville looked over at him, quite happy that it wasn't something he needed to deal with. A professor was here to save the day – this time, or again. Whichever it was.

"The huge dog thing. The troll was fighting it first, but then it caught Hermione." He said honestly.

The Professor's face darkened and if Neville didn't know better the man probably wanted to cuss up a storm the way his Uncle would when he got that same look on his face.

The massive dog roared triumphant.

"Look after the girl!" Snape spat as he rounded the corner toward the monster canine.

.

.

While Neville was facing the fight of life on the third floor, the professors in the Main Hall were preparing to take their students to safety. Due to being told that there was a troll in the dungeons the mixture of Hufflepuff and Slytherin students were being escorted back to their common rooms with added escorts. Half the school slowly made their way down the steps to the lower levels with older students at the front and back, keeping the youngest safely in the middle.

Draco was very annoyed. He only screamed because everyone else had earlier. And now the night was getting even worse.

It had seemed exciting at first, but now it was completely annoying. The horde of first year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins were flanked by a group of teachers leading towards the dungeons.

At first he thought he'd get the chance to watch a troll in action, but the longer it took to reach the dungeons the slimmer his chance became. Professor Snape was part of the group sent to find it; if he did it would probably go down in less than a minute. His head of House was just that good and Draco brimmed with pride just thinking of it.

McGonagall was out there looking for it too and he had grudging respect for her abilities – his father did as well, so she must be really, really good at battling.

But no. It was a slow dour march to the bottom with the rest of his age group moaning the whole way. If only the troll would show up to gobble a few of them up. They'd quit whining.

"Oh, shut up Crabbe! You don't need to eat anymore!" He said annoyed at the whole thing.

Crabbe just grumbled in response about the deserts they were missing. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I wish we could have just stayed in the Main Hall. What if we find it?" Someone moaned.

"Good. I've never seen a troll before!"

"But it's so dangerous, Justin you won't like them. They're terrible. And they smell."

The Hufflepuffs continued to moan. Other than Crabbe and his unfinished meal, Draco was proud of the younger Slytherins. At the center, he was able to see that everyone was fingering their wands. Even if it did them no good as the spells they had been taught so far were useless in battle.

Draco smirked. If any of them were to be eaten, it would probably be one of the first year Hufflepuffs.

"What's so funny?" A serious voice asked from behind. Draco turned and came face to face with a blonde haired 'Puff. Susan Bones.

"Oh, nothing."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. The Slytherins tightened together and she rolled her eyes.

Now with back up he felt confident enough to say, "If anyone gets eaten it'll be one of you."

"Step lightly; we are almost at the bottom of the stairs!" Professor Vector called from the lead over the murmurs of the students.

Susan snorted. "As if. We are surrounded by experienced professors. What could go wrong?" She said with a flick of her head as she moved off the last step of the stairs.

Suddenly, A large mass of grey descended from higher up the main stairwell and slammed into the stone floor splattering those already at the bottom with a layer of dust and troll bits. Susan's mouth popped open and her eyes widened in shock, a few of the students began to sob.

A small shower of pulverized rock rained down on it, just missing the students and teachers. A few of them breathed a deep sigh of relief; no one had been in the open center to the side of the stairs. They had been told to keep close to the walls.

Professor Vector, drenched in troll liquid ignored her current predicament and strolled to the meaty mass in the impact zone.

She shaded her eyes and looked upward.

"It _almost _made it to the dungeon." She said out loud bemused.

.

.

"Hermione!" A high pitched voice shouted; Neville looked up at the sound.

"You! What happened?" A pale faced Ron Weasley shouted to Neville quickly going to the downed girl. He held his hands over her without touching, brow wrinkled tight as he bit his lip unsure of how to help her.

Neville looked over at him in confusion. What was he doing here?

"I didn't do anything," he said. It was the only thing Neville was able to come up with.

The other boy looked around at the clear signs of a fight. Rocks strewn about, discarded firework wrapper, and last but not least the unconscious girl next to him.

"You did something to her, did she get hit by their prank fireworks? What did you do?" The red haired boy asked as he took in the scene the wrong way.

"A troll. It found us." Neville answered feeling out of breath. Harry tensed in his lap when the other boy frowned.

"They said the troll was in the dungeons, what are you on about?"

The wall rumbled as Snape spat out a spell around the corner out of sight.

"What was that?" Ron began to walk toward it.

"No! Don't go over there!" Neville wheezed desperately. "It's part way out of the room. It's dangerous!"

"What're you hiding?" The other boy said with eyes narrowed.

Neville wiped at his brow, "I didn't do anything. I swear!"

"You said that before." Ron said voice heated and angry his face flushing red. He came back over to Neville; intent on moving Hermione farther away, or to get him, Neville wasn't sure. In the end it didn't matter, Professor McGonagall arrived just as the steely face boy made it to him.

"Mr. Weasley! What the devil are you doing here?"

Neville inhaled deeply and divulged as much as possible in that same breathe. "Professor! Hermione was injured! She needs help, and Professor Snape! He's –"

"I'm sure the Head of Slytherin can take care of whatever problem he is dealing with at the moment. Students on the other hand…" She stared at the two conscious Gryffindors. Ron flinched to the side but stayed in front of the brown haired girl.

"Hermione is hurt." Ron said. She gestured him away from the girl and he stood back. The hairs on the back of Neville's neck pricked up under the stare of the other boy.

"Did you prank her?" Ron asked lowly as his hands balled into fists. The fighting from around the corner grew louder as if getting nearer.

"I highly doubt he had any intent to do that, but that remains to be seen. What are you doing in here, on the third floor corridor, when you have explicitly been told not too?" The older woman scowled as she floated Hermione up in the air to better examine her head wound.

Ron opened his mouth.

"And don't, Mr. Weasley, tell me it was an accident or that you have gotten lost. Your brothers have pulled that card one too many times."

The red head looked mutinous as he grumbled under his breath. He jabbed his chin toward Neville, who had remained silent but flinching throughout most of her words. "Talk to him, She came to find him. He was here."

His house head turned to him and he squirmed a bit under her stare as he tried to push himself into the wall. "Mr. Longbottom, is that true?"

Harry meowed and looked at him. A few clicks came through but Neville was too fatigued, his heart was beating like mad – he didn't have the staying power to process two conversations at once after what had just happened.

Neville gulped and the blood drained from his face. She made a few motions with her wand, one that was quite familiar to him and a few others that he figured must have been checking his vitals. She tutted, and asked her question again. This time he nodded weakly.

She stared at him for a second in surprise before saying, "Very well. Mr. Longbottom, return to your dorm and wait there until I come for you. You are in a bit of shock, but nothing that some rest can't cure. I'll send you to Poppy later if needed. Mr. Weasley, you and I will take Miss Granger to –"

"Minerva, if you are _done_ wrapping things up with your miscreants who will be expelled; come over here and help me deal with Hagrid's blasted hellhound." Snape shouted angrily as he came into view. His left side was covered in frothy spit giving him the appearance of a soggy black chew toy.

"I cannot let them move about the school unescorted, Severus." She grumbled. Her eyes widened as a massive claw barely missed him.

"A-a-anything I can he-help with Minerva? The troll has been found in the basement." Quirrell said from the stairs. He flinched as the monster still fighting snarled.

Her face pinched. She looked between her students and the man hunching at the foot of the stairs."Please escort my two students to the infirmary; who knows what other monsters are gallivanting about!" Professor McGonagall said flustered. Neville would have grinned it the words hadn't held so much truth. A brief glint of annoyance flashed across her face as she stared at the other man, Neville wasn't sure if he had imagined it or not. "Go straight there Quirnius. No funny business."

"Never." The man promised in a voice much smoother than usual. He beckoned Ron over to him and using Professor McGonagall's spell began to float Hermione down the stairs. From his spot on the ground Neville watched his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher grip the other boy lightly by the shoulder and whisper something – Ron's head shot up and with a speechless face he stared right back at Neville. His mouth opened in horror.

"Wha –" Neville began to say but a colorful explosion distracted him. When he looked back, the three were gone, headed for the infirmary. Neville stomach flipped again, he wanted to throw up – he had never had so many bad feelings in such a short time span. He suspected Ron was not going to be in the happiest of moods the next time he talked to the other boy. Not if the stuttering man was having a talk with him first.

"Time to stand up Longbottom, you need to leave before things get anymore hairy."

She pulled out her wand and with a flick, slivery webs glistened in the air condensing in the form of a small crouching tabby cat. It blinked and walked over to her.

She looked at it intently and poked it with her wand that silvery cat inflated a bit, back arched in a silent angry yowl. It expanded to the size of a large dog; a little more see through with spots of condensed silver dripping down its hide. _Eerie._ Harry padded over to the cat and sniffed it. The ghostly cat ignored him.

Closer to waist height on Neville, the silver wild cat looked at her with its tail swishing back and forth.

"It won't last long this way, but I will know if you encounter any troubles. " She turned toward the commotion at the end of the hall, but Neville was able to hear her next words as clear as ever. "I will also know if you do not go straight to your dorm. You are in some trouble this time, Mr. Longbottom."

"Minerva, if you are done prattling to your students –" Neville had never heard his potions professor sound so panicked before. He was amazed the man was still able to sound irritated as he parried blow for blow with the three-headed dog partially out of the hall.

It was an amazing sight; his potions professor was surely an experienced fighter. His vision filled with silver and he leaned back against the wall, the ghostly cat had gotten closer.

"Severus, I am coming you crotchety man," McGonagall said as she pushed up her sleeves and charmed what was left of the railing into a thick rock cord. "One would think you would know how to deal with dark creatures," she finished. Neville blinked and Harry yowled in a tone close to amazement – the Transfiguration teacher sounded excited.

She noticed him watching and said, "Off you go lad. This fight is not one for children."

"Minerva, it's in the half-giant's best interests that you come over here immediately before I _blow this creature up_."

With a snort, she flicked her wand at the stone rope and it attached itself to the nearest head like a giant muzzle. The beast grunted angrily and howled.

As he followed the cat up the steps that had finished their move after the troll had stepped off them, Neville felt a little bit disappointed that he wouldn't be able to see his teachers finish the fight. Harry peeked back once more and so did Neville, but the angle of the stairs that they were currently ascending blocked their view.

Now he would just have to wait and see what would happen in the aftermath.

"Maybe I should start packing," he wondered miserably to himself out loud as he and his flanking escort of felines came to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

* * *

_TBC_


End file.
